Mothering

It's been longer than usual since I have written a blog post.  That's partially because I've been focused on getting my family healthy and preparing for Max's big first birthday party this coming weekend.

I am very blessed to have had healthy children for the most part.  Claire has had only one ear infection and Max hasn't had any.  It's rare for us to make a trip to the Pediatrician for reasons other than well visits.    But, my kids (especially Claire so far) are absolutely plagued with colds during the fall/winter.  It felt like Claire had a cold my entire maternity leave last winter.  And one or both (usually both) children have had a cold for the past four weeks straight. It's driving me crazy!!  Last weekend Josh got the flu so I remain the only person in this household that has been healthy.

I always struggle with the decision to bring my children to the Pediatrician.  When Claire was 10 months old, I called the nurse line at our Pediatrician's office and asked if I should bring her in after describing her symptoms.  The nurse said, "Uhh...no... you need to bring her to Children's Hospital immediately".  Several hours and a couple bags of fluids later, (I haven't forgotten how hard it was to see an IV in her little arm) and she was on the road to recovery. Since then, I have learned to trust my gut.

Last Wednesday, Claire was on her fourth straight day of a fever.  Our doctor once told us that a fever is our body's way of saying something is wrong, so I decided (with the help of the nurse on the nurse line) to get her checked out.  Since I work full-time and an hour away from home, I have to bring them in during the evening.  Her bedtime is 7:00PM and her appointment was at 7:45PM so it was already a recipe for disaster.

She was terrified of everything about the experience.  Standing on the scale to capture her weight? Torture.  Doctor listening to her lungs with a stethoscope? Cruel and unusual punishment.  Taking x-rays of her chest?  She looked at me with eyes as if to say, "how are you letting them do this to me?!?!" (as I held her arms high above her head and pushed her chest against the cold metal).

We didn't leave until 9:15 PM after being told that she just has a virus.  I slumped into the car and breathed a sigh of relief and exhaustion.  In the backseat, Claire said, "We had fun at doctor Mommy!".  Are you kidding me, child?  A couple minutes later she said, "I be good girl at doctor.  I'm good girl Mommy".  I didn't respond because I was not going to affirm her statement since she was quite the opposite of a good girl nor did I want to correct her and say she was naughty because she was sick and it was long past her bedtime, after all.  A minute later she declared, "I'm precious Mommy".  To that I smiled and said, "Yes, sweetheart.  You are precious and I love you".

When Max woke up yesterday morning, I told Josh that it seemed that he lost his voice.  Annie (my MIL and the angel who watches our children) said it must be from all of the screaming he did the day before.  When Claire takes his toys away from him, he now puts up a fight! I got home from work at 6:00PM and heard him struggling to breathe. I called my dear friend Rachel because I saw earlier that day on Facebook that her daughter was diagnosed with croup. I didn't know anything about croup but when Rachel described Kiera's symptoms, it sounded just like Max.  I immediately called the nurse line and she said that their first (and only) appointment that evening was at 8:15PM.  Great..... She called back a minute later and said to bring him in immediately.  When Claire heard that I was bringing him to the doctor and she was staying home, she said, "No Mommy! I need to go doctor!  I have cough! I need to go for cough! ".  

Max was diagnosed with a "very bad case" (according to the Ped) of croup and had to have some steroids and nebulizer (sp?) treatments in the office.  Not a fun experience for either of us but overall, he was a trooper.  We walked the hall for 30 minutes while we waited to see if the treatments improved his breathing.  The Ped said that croup gets worse during the night and Max was already so bad that he was worried what would happen during the middle of the night.  The Ped was torn about sending us to the Hospital but said that we could go home.  He warned me to expect a 50/50 chance that we'd have to bring Max to the Children's Hospital during the middle of the night if his breathing returned to the condition in which it was when I brought him in that evening.

Deja vu. Two trips to the doc during the evening in one week. 

Josh and I, as well as our mothers, prayed that he would improve and not have to go to the hospital and we were thrilled when he slept all night long!  Thank you Jesus.  He still has the wheezy breathing so I am home with him today and administering the steroid treatments.  He knows about his birthday party on Sunday so he's determined to get better.

It's been a rough go the past month with illnesses but it's part of the whole mothering job description.  When they are sick, there's no place I'd rather be than holding them in my arms. Wiping noses. Rocking babies in the wee hours of the night. Reminding Claire over and over and over again to cover her mouth when she coughs. Giving hugs. Yup, it's part of the Mothering job. And it's my favorite job in the world.