a first for us

Yesterday began what was one of the most scariest times in my life. PorkChop hadn't been feeling well for a few days but I just assumed that it was teething. His fever was high but he was still acting pretty normal, a bit more clingy but his normal happy and content self. During SweetPea's party though, he decided to stop eating. All together. I would offer the breast and he would just rear his body backwards and howl, huge tears running down his cheeks. By early afternoon, he wasn't wetting any diapers. We decided about 8pm to take him into the after hours clinic at the hospital before it closed.

When we got there, it had been at least 7 hrs without a wet diaper and even longer since he had eaten. He still wasn't interested in food and his eerie crying fits were getting closer and closer together. Thanks to some motrin, his fever was at bay at least.

PorkChop was seen at 830pm and because of his age and the history of illnesses in the family (SweetPea had an ear infection, Punk had both ears infected, Peanut was starting to complain of the same), it was decided to admit him through the ER for some IV fluids.

We were told at first that it would be a few hours and then he could leave. But with the length of his fever, his refusal to eat and his lethargy, they decided that it would be better to admit him overnight to the pediatrics ward.

Hubby took the older kids home, including my poor birthday girl who didn't understand one bit why mama and her baby were staying behind. I kept trying to offer the breast and my poor little man just kept refusing and looking at me with such sadness that I wanted to break down and cry. I didn't though. I was too afraid that if I started, I wouldn't stop.

Instead, I held PorkChop through six attempts to get a blood draw, through two more attempts to get the IV started, through a catheter to check for urinary trouble and an RSV swab.

I didn't sleep a wink that night having PorkChop not in the bed next to me for the first time since his birth. And the poor little man was so exhausted from the lack of fluids and the testing that he slept for four straight hours for the first time ever not snuggled up in my arms. Three bags of fluid later though and that ended. Once the IV fluids began kicking in, PorkChop started to become more like his normal self. He perked up, slowly ate from the breast and began wetting again.

Results came back that his body was fighting something but they never could pin point exactly what. Best guess was that it was some kind of viral infection based on my description of his slapped looking cheeks most of last week.

It never would have occurred to me before that such a mild appearing "cold" could be so concerning so quickly. None of my children had ever been hospitalized overnight before even though we had made other ER trips for various illnesses. Just the mental image that I carry of my PorkChop screaming (from hunger they guessed... ) but unwilling to eat, wanting to snuggle and just sleep, to being hooked to an IV is something that I will not soon forget.

I will take more time to snuggle him, to love on him, to have a bit more patience. We were lucky that nothing was seriously wrong. But what if it had? What would I have done without my baby?