December’s letter is a little delayed. Probably because we spent pretty much the whole last week of December in the hospital with you as you fought off croup, pneumonia, and influenza along with breathing issues that kept you there a few extra days. It is a Christmas that we will never forget, but it certainly won’t be my favorite one. Santa still managed to find you though…and, shamefully, your reaction to meeting him for the first time was just what I was hoping for.
While we were there, we tried to make your stay as stress-free on you as we could. Your dad brought you toys and books from home. We cuddled you all day and night. You ate popsicles any time of the day. We played peek-a-boo through your crib. But all in all, no matter what we did, you thoroughly did not enjoy your stay. And I don’t blame you.
Even though one of my main jobs as your mama is to take care of you in any situation, I really didn’t enjoy being there with you. Because it scared the crap out of me. There is nothing worse than a sick child–but there is really nothing worse than a sick child in the hospital who is in isolation and on oxygen and a pulse ox 24 hours of every day with a fever of 104 and 105. You stopped eating and drinking for a few days and lost a few pounds. Two hours before they were going to hook you up to an IV for fluids, your dad and I gave you a little pep-talk to drink
something anything or you would be there longer. Like our “talk” contained magic powers capable of getting through to you, it worked. You were able to retain enough fluids and get a wet diaper to avoid the IV!
Did I mention I was six months pregnant…?
So there we spent Christmas. Not ideal of course, but as a family indeed.
You were sent home with home oxygen, a pulse oxymeter, and an apnea machine. So we’ve made some adjustments to bedtime. We finished up your oxygen last night and will start your apnea machine tomorrow night. Even though it means nothing to you now, I am just going to go ahead and apologize for having to rip tegaderm sheets off of your face every morning when removing the oxygen tube leaving you with sore and chapped little cheekers. It is really no way to wake up.
Next you are off to the E.N.T. again for a follow up appointment to look into removing your tonsils and adenoids; which may help correct some of these breathing issues. Bless your little heart.
And don’t you scare me like this ever again, okay?!?