The Mom who Cried…

Is it Wolf?  Are you crying Wolf when you take your kid to the doctor and they miraculously feel better the moment you get there?  I guess I cried “Possibly More Than a Chest Cold?”

Or maybe I didn’t cry at all. Maybe I only meekly said “Umm… tell me that my baby isn’t scary wheezing and cooking pneumonia in her lungs so that I can avoid a late night trip to the Emergency Room over the weekend?”

There are things I don’t really do – things like take my baby to the doctor because she has a cold. And things like go out in public without a shower, wearing pajamas and a poncho.  A fucking poncho, y’all. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

As Lucy upchucked snot rockets for the eleventh night in a row my lack of sleep started messing with my head.  Her wheezy breath at night started scaring me.  Her little eyes in our dark bedroom, crying.  This morning I caved.  I called the pediatrician.  “Can you get here in fifteen minutes?”

Yep.  Let me just put on a hat.  And a poncho.  Let me put on my Frazzled Mom That Has Not Slept in 11 Days costume so that when I show up and my hacking, coughing snot nosed baby appears to be in perfectly good health I will not look like a raving lunatic with Münchausen syndrome.

Clean lungs.  No danger zone.  Just a crabby baby with a nasty cold upchucking snot rockets in my bed.  And I am grateful.  I guess that is what motherhood is all about some days, gratitude for the strangest things.

If you need me, just look for the gal with the poncho on, the sweaty one because she has a humidifier running in every room of her house. I will be alternately squirting breastmilk up my kid’s nose and chasing her with The SnotSucker.  I will be hard to miss.

Addendum: If there was a teeny part of me that felt like we were getting the short end of the health stick this holiday season I don’t need to look far to check myself.  While I was at the doctor getting the clean lungs stamp of approval my dear friend Karen was heading back to the ER with one of her wee ones.  Send her good juju, please.  And if you are dying to hear more about bodily functions she is your gal.   

13 responses to “The Mom who Cried…

  1. You did the right thing. I remember when my son was sick and I took him in and the doc said he was fine and just going through kid growth stuff. I didn’t believe him, trusted my gut and took him to another doc — he had this stomach flu thing that needed anti-biotics. Always trust your instincts, we moms know when something is wrong.

  2. Dearest: I still wear baggy yoga pants most days when I’m not at work…or after work. There are humidifiers going on in all of our bedrooms. The “baby” is a college freshman, but I still took him to the pediatrician this week because I was pretty positive he had strep/mono/killer flu/Black Plague because he cough sounded like a cannon going off underwater. Naturally, he was just congested and I looked the fool. Kids get older, but many things stay the same. I love the way you write. Sorry about the snot rockets.

  3. Glad Lucy is ok! And I’m sure the paediatrician didn’t mind – they’re glad you care! ^.^

  4. You make me wish I had a poncho. So practical.
    Glad your snot factory is running efficiently, and that no pneumonia has infiltrated.

  5. Better to go and find out it’s not as bad as you envisioned than to ignore a bad thing. Plus, knowing you don’t have a bad thing going on with your baby means you may have a little more peace of mind. Not necessarily sleep, but peace of mind. Hang in there!

  6. I’m so glad she’s ok. And panchos? Sexy.

  7. Holy shit, I’m haunted by the fucking Münchausen thing as well! I keep wanted to tell the parade of docs that come through C’s room that I’m crazy, but not crazy-crazy. Just crazy enough to have meds.

    Glad Lucy is ok. The pneumonia game is not turning out to be a hell of a lot of fun. xo

  8. You were born in May, Kel. Maybe I’ve told you – or maybe I decided not to – about rushing you to the pediatrician when you were but one month old I wrapped you in a blanket, put you in the Moses basket (we didn’t have to have a car seat yet) with your pajamas and your sweater and your hat. When I got there, I met Dr. Knox for the first time. “Why is she so warm and sweaty all the time? Does she have a fever? It didn’t register when I took it — maye I don’t know how to use the thermometer?” He looked at you, unwrapped the blanket, removed the sweater and the hat, unbuttoned the top button of your jammies to take a good look. “Are you warm?” he asked me. “Yeah, it’s unseasonably warm even for June,” I replied, trying to look calm even though I was a wreck with worry that he’d figure out I didn’t have a clue about babies. “You might want to follow a simple rule, Ann. If you’re warm, so is she. She’s dressed for winter!” Ooooohhhhh. Duh.

    It’s like a rite of passage to run to the doctor with crazy questions – yours wasn’t even miildly silly. Good mom. Good job. Take a hundred out of petty cash. hahaha….

  9. I was going to tell you the story about me rushing my 4 year old son into the ER one morning. He’d had an erection in the shower. He didn’t know what was happening. Here’s the embarrassing part: neither did I. So…to the ER we go. Heaven forbid his little teeny-weeny should fall off before his 5th birthday. Right?
    So…what happened when we got to the ER? I got the youngest looking ER Doc in the world…he surely must have been 13 years old…but looked all of 11 1/2. He checked I told him the “problem”. Son and teeny-weeny were checked. Then….he looked at me with mind gears grinding trying to figure out out to tell this twenty-something mom about….erections.
    Now you know why I didn’t tell you this story just to make you feel better.

  10. Better safe than sorry, right?

  11. I remember those days. Well done mom. You did the right thing. Honest.

Gimme some love!! Please?

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s