Today's guest post is from Nadia of Mama and the City. She lives just north of me in Vancouver, BC, is a Latina working mama-blogger-foodie-photographer. Phew!
She writes today about her child getting sick (away from home!) and the dreaded Mom Guilt.
__________
Grand Entrance
You are sleeping right now and I’m happy for it. You’ve been through so much pain, both directly by the disease that attacked your body last Monday, and by the induced pain we gave you at the hospital in order to get better. Those were a lot of needless. And I’m sorry.
Your face looks so peaceful and in relief as you manage to sleep now it’s so hard to think you were ever sick. Your breath is clean and flows more easily. Your mouth and lips look round, full and pink. And your skin is cool again. This is comforting and I want to preserve it in the memory of my inner thoughts to eradicate the agony of our last 4 days.
I still remember your body being weak and warm last Monday, in spite of that you tried to stay calm while taking that plane with me. I told you over and over I needed you to be a nice girl and not to get mad at mommy for no reason. And, you did an amazing job.
When we finally landed at our destination we already knew we were both sick and you, more than me, needed immediate attention. We got you in bed and gave you something to control your high fever. It worked and by the following morning you were already asking for food. That was a good sign. We took that day easy. Your fever was still coming in intervals, but being the cough the one that annoyed you the most.
On Wednesday the city was bright and warm, 29oC (85oF) and you were not happy staying at home with my mom - despite her insistence - and wanted to come with me instead of resting. Your eyes were so sensitive to the light I had to go back to get your hat. As soon as we went into the car you fell asleep and I started to regret it (I had plans to run a lot of errands that day and I wasn’t entirely happy). And just as I made peace with my plans being changed, in less than 2 hrs we made it back home. You were fuzzy, warm and yelling in pain. I wasn’t sure if the heat had something to do with it, probably, but you were not feeling any better once we came into the house.
After a nice 2 hr nap your cough woke you up and started yelling non-stop. I can only imagine the amount of pain you were in at that moment. But I still tried to quiet you down. I was feeling crappy that night, sore throat and feverish. I only wanted to go back to bed and it didn’t feel like it was going to happen. So I splashed a couple of drops of water on your face and you got quiet and begged for no more. I couldn’t stop feeling miserable that night.
The next morning, you were still in bed. I continued providing your medicines and after 30 mins of the last dose of Ibuprofen your fever didn’t get better. And then the reading was 39.4 oC and I started to freak out... “What if this fever is not coming down?, What would I do?, How long do I have until it becomes more serious?” I grabbed the phone, I contacted the medical insurance agency and asked them to send us to one of their authorized hospitals. 15 minutes later we were on our way, you hanging from my arms, still hot and still weak.
The 8 hours after that were very intense, not only emotionally but physically, that I’ll never forget from this trip. Since the moment the first needle made your arm I knew I had a lot of work ahead. I had to hold you down when you somehow found strength to fighting like a warrior against anyone trying to touch you again. In the middle of all my love and powerless emotions I had to be strong. Strong not only for you but also for me. I couldn’t stop blaming and judging myself for my poor decisions. Especially when the doctors told me you were showing symptoms of Influenza. If only had I reacted sooner when you were yelling at me, instead I got mad and splashed your cute sweet little face.
It’s been 4 days since your hospitalization and now you seem to be back to your regular self. Playful, strong, happy, all those things that fills my heart with joy. I guess your personality needed to make a grand entrance into this country. That’s what I keep telling myself to minimize the level of guilt my dear child.
Your face looks so peaceful and in relief as you manage to sleep now it’s so hard to think you were ever sick. Your breath is clean and flows more easily. Your mouth and lips look round, full and pink. And your skin is cool again. This is comforting and I want to preserve it in the memory of my inner thoughts to eradicate the agony of our last 4 days.
I still remember your body being weak and warm last Monday, in spite of that you tried to stay calm while taking that plane with me. I told you over and over I needed you to be a nice girl and not to get mad at mommy for no reason. And, you did an amazing job.
When we finally landed at our destination we already knew we were both sick and you, more than me, needed immediate attention. We got you in bed and gave you something to control your high fever. It worked and by the following morning you were already asking for food. That was a good sign. We took that day easy. Your fever was still coming in intervals, but being the cough the one that annoyed you the most.
On Wednesday the city was bright and warm, 29oC (85oF) and you were not happy staying at home with my mom - despite her insistence - and wanted to come with me instead of resting. Your eyes were so sensitive to the light I had to go back to get your hat. As soon as we went into the car you fell asleep and I started to regret it (I had plans to run a lot of errands that day and I wasn’t entirely happy). And just as I made peace with my plans being changed, in less than 2 hrs we made it back home. You were fuzzy, warm and yelling in pain. I wasn’t sure if the heat had something to do with it, probably, but you were not feeling any better once we came into the house.
After a nice 2 hr nap your cough woke you up and started yelling non-stop. I can only imagine the amount of pain you were in at that moment. But I still tried to quiet you down. I was feeling crappy that night, sore throat and feverish. I only wanted to go back to bed and it didn’t feel like it was going to happen. So I splashed a couple of drops of water on your face and you got quiet and begged for no more. I couldn’t stop feeling miserable that night.
The next morning, you were still in bed. I continued providing your medicines and after 30 mins of the last dose of Ibuprofen your fever didn’t get better. And then the reading was 39.4 oC and I started to freak out... “What if this fever is not coming down?, What would I do?, How long do I have until it becomes more serious?” I grabbed the phone, I contacted the medical insurance agency and asked them to send us to one of their authorized hospitals. 15 minutes later we were on our way, you hanging from my arms, still hot and still weak.
The 8 hours after that were very intense, not only emotionally but physically, that I’ll never forget from this trip. Since the moment the first needle made your arm I knew I had a lot of work ahead. I had to hold you down when you somehow found strength to fighting like a warrior against anyone trying to touch you again. In the middle of all my love and powerless emotions I had to be strong. Strong not only for you but also for me. I couldn’t stop blaming and judging myself for my poor decisions. Especially when the doctors told me you were showing symptoms of Influenza. If only had I reacted sooner when you were yelling at me, instead I got mad and splashed your cute sweet little face.
It’s been 4 days since your hospitalization and now you seem to be back to your regular self. Playful, strong, happy, all those things that fills my heart with joy. I guess your personality needed to make a grand entrance into this country. That’s what I keep telling myself to minimize the level of guilt my dear child.
__________
Oh my gosh, so stressful and scary! Nadia, I'm sorry this is your Perspective right now.
So glad your little girl is OK, though.
Please check out Nadia's online digs:
No comments:
Post a Comment