One of the hardest things about parenthood is watching your child be sick.
I consider myself extremely blessed that I have only experienced minor illnesses with each of my children and can't even begin to imagine how horrible it is to watch a child with a chronic illness suffer and be miserable over and over again.
I have friends who are in those shoes and they amaze me. Their strength, endurance, positive attitude blows me away while they are a nurse & mommy 24/7.
I just spent the past 2 days playing mommy and nurse to my 6 month old little man while his little body fights something. We are still not sure what exactly is making him so sick, but I think it is safe to say he is heading towards recovery.
He woke up in the early hours of Thursday morning with a fever and has been miserable since.
He spent Thursday & Friday screaming and inconsolable.
(possibly the worst combination for a baby)
As a nurse, you of course assume the absolute worst and begin thinking extremely irrationally anytime you have a sick child.
Within minutes of discovering your poor child is ill, you have diagnosed them with multiple horrible things, created a treatment plan (which includes what to do with the other healthy family members in your house), rearranged your schedule and began your head to toe assessment.
I brought him into the clinic Friday morning and was literally praying for something simple like an ear infection. I was baffled when the Nurse Practitioner told me everything looked great and I should just keep an eye on him.
The mommy in me thought blast, but relieved he was okay. The nurse in me asked what the bare minimum intake and output could be before we thought about IV fluids.
Then I spent the last 2 days trying not to get too worried as he stopped nursing and his diapers went from exploding to microscopically wet and then completely dry.
He was only happy being held, and thus spent lots of time in my arms (no complaints here).
I spent hours trying to get him to drink out of a bottle, nurse, syringe feeding him breastmilk, dropping milk onto his tongue with a straw, you name it and I probably tried it.
He shared a personality trait with us that of course no one else in the family has: stubbornness.
He refused medicine and either clamped down, spit it at me, or spit it back out! Little stinker!
He also spent lots of time sleeping on me.
Today when I was ready to haul him back in and preparing myself for a probable IV start and fluids in the ER, he miraculously started nursing again!
This from the little boy who spent the past 2 days not wanting anything in his mouth (pacifier, medicine, bottle, or myself).
I was so excited I started crying (the mom in me).
I also cried when had his first good wet diaper (the nurse in me) secretly wishing we had a diaper scale so I could weight it!
Tonight I was overwhelmed with thanksgiving as we saw him smile again, heard him giggling as his older brothers entertained him in the car, and when he nursed again before bed!
I was also overwhelmed by the love of family and friends as we endured the past few weeks with little sleep leading up to the marathon of very little sleep with a sick baby.
Thanks for loving on us!
We are truly blessed and glad our little man is hopefully back to his smiley self!