Back At The Hospital

It was a long night, which bled into a long day, which led us back here, to the hospital. After Elvie’s procedure to find out more about her urological structures on Monday, she seemed fine, but everything started to go downhill after midnight. There was a low grade fever, and then she started throwing up every time I’d give her medication. By the time we got to the pediatrician’s office for our previously scheduled appointment today, I knew we needed some extra help, but I was hoping that our pediatrician would be the one to give it. “You’re going to have to go back to the hospital,” our pediatrician said, and I started crying. It’s not a big deal, but it is. Especially after spending much of the night cleaning up baby vomit instead of sleeping and then much of the day doing the same, it feels like a big deal.

Elvie likely has another UTI. I’m told it’s not uncommon following a procedure like she had on Monday. But it is disappointing nevertheless. And now that I’m fully sleep deprived, if you ask me about it, anything about it, I’ll cry when I answer. So unless you’d like an awkward moment, just smile and talk about the weather.

The worst part of all of this is seeing Elvie go through all she has to go through for diagnosis and treatment. IV and blood draw straightaway, catheter not long after. Vital signs taken every six hours, whether she is awake at that time or not. And me, sleeping in the bedside chair, where she can’t see me right away when she wakes up. This is our reality. I thought the bringing baby home part of our story would be done by now, but apparently we are just living it over and over again.

Still, it’s not all horrible. Elvie’s fan club, as we call the doctors and nurses who helped her  when she was here before, is aware that she has arrived, and many people have already popped by our room to say hello, and that they’re glad to see us, but sorry that we’re here for anything other than a quick visit. That makes this so much easier. Last time, we came in scared and unfamiliar; this time we know from day one that she’s going to be okay, and we feel that we are among friends.

This will be hard, but not terrible. This stay should be much shorter than the last, and we will walk through whatever we need to in order to get our sweet baby home again. Until then, we will stay by her side, just like before. I’m already wearing my lounge pants, and my toothbrush is in my bag. We’re in it to win it, again.

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More on Babble:

My Mantra For Our New Normal

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What All Our Hard Work Has Accomplished


Article Posted 4 years Ago
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