Sunday, July 10, 2011

Poor Sweet Little Angel

Riley has her first cold/virus. I'm not sure which one of us is more upset.

Friday evening she started coughing and sneezing and we called the Dr to see what we could do. We won't be seeing that Dr again. She needed to be paged twice and was very bothered by my call. Audibly so. They pretty much said a cold was normal and just elevate her head and keep her comfortable.

She woke around 3 Saturday morning with a coughing fit and we snuggled until 4:30 when she fell back to sleep. She then slept until 11am. She threw up her bottle and fell back to sleep not waking again until 4pm. When Paul changed her diaper we took her temp and it was 102.6.

I felt kind of silly calling the doctor because they made me feel like such a fool the night before but we wanted to be on the safe side and thank goodness we did. They told us to take her to the ER. Apparently 102.6 is way high for a child her age. They were supposed to tell us to give her Tylenol or a cool bath not the hospital.

They gave her some Tylenol at 5:15 as we waited for the Dr and she drank about 10oz of formula, keeping it all down. Once the Dr came in he cleared her ears and throat saying she looked good in that department. Then we had to talk about the fever. 102.4 is the cut off for a child her age. Once they hit that they want to do urine and blood tests. A urine test on a 12 week old means a catheter.

I had to leave the room. Paul stayed with her and she did great for the catheter but she peed before they got the tube in. They kept trying though. Paul said they tried 3 different time and Riley was a trooper.

She also did well with her blood draw. Then they decided to give her an IV line. I was standing outside the room when she let out the most heartbreaking blood curdling scream. I walked down the hall sobbing my eyes out and covering my ears. I couldn't stand it.

Then came the guilt. WTF was I doing. I was supposed to be this baby's protector. Her safe place and soothing face. I was a fricking adult for crying out loud and my helpless child was getting pricked and prodded. I needed to have a big "grow the F up" talk with myself and get over it and be there for my child. No matter how sad it was for me it couldn't compare to how what she was going though and I left her. How weak.

I went back in as they were finishing up the IV and they filled me in on everything. They gave us a cup to try to catch her pee. Yes, catch her pee. Paul and I looked at each other like WTF but ok we will try. Poor little nugget was cold and traumatized but we tried. The Dr came back and laughed at us, we assured him it was his nurses idea not ours. They gave her fluids through the IV to fill her bladder and tried the catheter again. Of course they missed it, but kept on trying. Riley was done at this point. She was pissed and cold and very sad. The nurse was able to get the tiniest drop, which wasn't enough for a full culture but was enough to rule out infection.

So her blood and urine were fine, thank goodness. They are calling it a virus. She's getting Tylenol every six hours for the fever and saline drops in her nose and we are just waiting it out.

Never in my life have I wanted to take someones pain away more. The mom guilt is strong in this one. I feel like it's all my fault because she most certainly picked it up at daycare. If we had saved more. If I didn't have student loans and no degree. If I had a degree. If we saved more. If we didn't have the patio, the extreme HD cable package, the little things all over that we don't really need. If I hadn't left my last job and taken a pay cut, who cares that it was miserable. Maybe if we didn't have all these ifs daycare wouldn't be a necessity. I know in my heart that it wouldn't matter it still doesn't stop the questions.

So she's still sleeping this morning at 7:30. She doesn't feel as warm as yesterday but we will see when she wakes up. We will spend the day giving hugs and kisses and whatever that little baby wants.

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