On Wednesday morning I took Macks to the doctor, only to wait hours after doing test after test to pinpoint why he wasn’t feeling well. Thankfully he didn’t have a fever, but I knew deep down that something wasn’t right.
His pediatrician finally resolved that his labored breathing was caused by mucous being in his lungs. What I thought was just a cold turned out to be bronchiolitis. As soon as I heard this news tears began to well up in my eyes. This little boy that I had given birth to just seven weeks ago was sick — and I couldn’t do anything about it.
The doctor told me not to cry, but how could I not? This was my child we were talking about. I was scared, overwhelmed, and anxious about what we were going to do next. They gave him a breathing treatment with the nebulizer so that they could check his stats after and see if they improved.
They did. And with that good news they sent us home with the nebulizer medicine and orders to give him that every four hours with a follow up appointment in the morning. Macks was attached to me that entire day. He didn’t want to sleep on anyone or anything but me, and I was okay with that. He felt comfort in nursing and I would let him nurse as long as he wanted. I just wanted him to be comfortable.
Deep down inside I was crumbling — worried that something worse might come of this. Worried because there was absolutely nothing else I could do other than what I was doing. Worried because I was excluding my other two children from us because I didn’t want them to get sick.
There is nothing that can prepare you for the emotions that you encounter when your child is sick, for the thoughts that run through your mind and the tears that are shed. It just makes you realize how deep the love is that you have for your child. I am so thankful that Macks is on the mend and that it wasn’t anything worse. It’s yet another reminder that we need to cherish every single moment with our little ones.
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