I am THAT mom. You know the one who is forever checking on a sleeping baby for any and every reason. It drives my husband crazy because he always thinks I am going to wake them up and sometimes that really does happen.
Last night, I had put my 20 month old daughter to bed. She was on antibiotics for an ear infection and she had been dealing with congestion all day. This girl sounded miserable. I periodically checked on her which in my case, translates to every five minutes. I warned you I was that mom.
It was time for me to finally go to bed when I crept in to peek one more time. I heard it immediately as I walked in. Her breathing was fast. Tossing and turning was going on and pitiful sounds were coming out. Turning the light on, I softly called her name.
Something didn’t sit right with me. Her breathing sounded forced.
No. She was not turning blue.
No. She was not gasping for air.
Yet, there was still something that wasn’t sitting quite right with this mommy. Now I will admit to googling a bit while I was figuring out what to do.
Let’s just say never google medical stuff when it comes to your child and leave it at that.
It was midnight and I woke up her four-year-old brother to tell him we were going to the hospital. Needless to say, he wasn’t thrilled and just wanted to go back to bed. I threw some things in a diaper bag and loaded up the car. I swear I never moved so fast yet it seemed like it took forever.
We arrived looking like we were attending a weekend-long pajama party. While the receptionist was taking our information, I kept asking her if I did the right thing coming there that night. I needed my concern to be validated and know in my heart that I was right to hit the panic button. It would be a theme throughout the hours we spent there.
They got us in quickly. My poor child at that point was a screaming mess. My husband was out of town so I had to be the strong one. At times, it was my four-year-old and his big smile at me that kept me going.
The nurse checked her fever…104. I had her reassure me that was a temperature of concern and I should be there.
Sometime later, the doctor arrived. He kept asking questions throwing them out faster than my brain could think at that hour. What was she like last week? What happened when I put her down for bed? What kind of cold did she have? When did I take her to the doctor last? Describe her breathing. Did her cough sound like a bark? Wait! What? What does a cough that sounds like a bark sound like exactly?
Yeah. He couldn’t give me an example on that one.
Finally, she got so upset that she started coughing which he determined did sound like a bark. My baby had croup. I kept asking if I did the right thing by coming in and he did in fact, agree. Then, he added that they needed to put in a catheter to check for a urine sample. This mama lost it and the tears just fell.
I couldn’t keep a brave face anymore.
This was too real and so was the panic.
They had me leave with my son who kept me laughing while we waited. When it was over, baby girl got meds and we stayed while they monitored her reactions.
Deep breaths over and over as my kids entertained each other while I held her on that tiny bed in the ER. Her fever dropped and she gave everyone smiles as they came in to check on her.
Hours later, they said we could go.
The nurse told me I was a good mommy. This time, I didn’t have to ask.
My name is Stacey and I blog at 40 Wishes and Counting. Its about mommy life at 40 where I am not quite ready to go over the hill. I have been published on The Mid, Mom Babble, Blunt Mom, and Sammiches & Psych Meds. Find her on Facebook and Twitter.
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