My 2,000 word essay on a month we won't soon forget...Part I
Over the last month, Jeff and I experienced our first really frightening 'parent' moment. Thankfully, the story has a happy ending, but it really makes you a THOUSAND times more thankful for a healthy baby and a loving and supportive marriage.
A little over a month ago, we were at the *height* of our frenzy to finish urgent house projects and finally MOVE into our home that we had closed on in January. Things were a mess - the kitchen was still ripped apart, no running water or working toilet on the first floor, boxes everywhere, not enough hours in the day, etc. My poor husband was working is day job AND working like a dog to finish things at the house until the wee hours of the morning – during this time, he probably lost at least 25 lbs. We spent almost every night and every weekend at the house and sometimes, we had no choice but to bring Paul with us. These were not ideal conditions to have a toddler in, but I tried my best to make it safe and comfortable for him.
However, I was not immune from feeling guilty and horrible for not paying closer attention to Paul's overall needs and nutrition at times. There were so many meals that we had skipped and while I never let Paul skip a meal, sometimes the schedule just meant that Paul ate his meals later than usual. He didn’t get as much active play time…sometimes; he’d sit in the Pack n Play or highchair for far too long. This of course, impacted his napping and regular sleep schedule too. It had a snowballing effect for us, b/c after being exhausted from all the work we were doing, then we’d be awake all night b/c Paul would not sleep.
This is all just the backdrop for what I'm about to explain. At Paul's 12 month well-baby check up, the pediatrician immediately expressed some concern for Paul's low weight gain from the previous two months. He had only put on a half pound, and she ideally would like to have him gaining 2 pounds/per month. [My inner voice is now immediately berating my horrible Mommy skills given the conditions we were living in, and I think, 'sure, hit me at my weakest spot possible!'].
So, I begin to explain to her a little bit about our situation w/the move etc. and immediately, she is sympathetic. We look closer at his chart and she says, that since he was also sick within the two previous months and experienced a reaction to one medication, it's possible that THOSE things contributed to his lack of weight gain. (I am eternally grateful for her ability to point the finger of failure elsewhere, even though I am giving myself most of the blame anyway.)
As Paul's exam progresses, her face changes. Only slightly. She listens to his heart, his lungs and then his heart again. She talks to Paul, lets him play with the ear instrument. He babbles and tries to wiggle away from her. She asks me softly to hold him. She listens to his heart again. She says, 'Hmmm,' with very little expression.
Now, those of you that are not yet parents will soon learn that doctor’s visits sometimes become barometers of how well you are able to raise a thriving individual, and sometimes, hopefully rarely, they can become life-altering moments.
I ask her quietly, already with a lump in my throat, 'Is something wrong?' You know, I do not really want to hear the answer to this question.
She says words that I can't erase, 'I hear an inconsistent beat in his heart. Like it stops for a beat and picks up again. It could be a murmur, but I don't hear it every time - only every other beat or so.'
My eyes immediately are filled w/tears and my knees get just a little bit weak. I hold Paul tighter and kiss him softly. Seeing my obvious fear, now she tries damage control. I should point out that I have immense respect and trust in this doctor – she has two careers – Mommy and Pediatrician, and she is an absolute doll in my eyes. She says, “It’s not something to worry about right now, but we’ll keep monitoring it. Just remember to mention it to whoever is examining Paul, and see if they still hear what I’ve heard today. Obviously, no one heard anything up until this point, so if it is a murmur, it is entirely possible that Paul will just outgrow it.” [This information, while reasonable and common, does not do ANYTHING to console a new Mom, just in case you are wondering.]
She also discovers that Paul has a lingering ear infection, and prescribes a different medicine to help him kick it. Because of the ear, he won’t be getting his scheduled immunization shots. So, the doctor again tries to calm me and as she passes me a tissue she says, “If I was truly alarmed by this, I’d be sending you to a specialist right now. Let’s see how Paul is feeling in two weeks and if I still hear something, then I’ll send you to a specialist to check it out.”
I dress Paul and try to calm myself, b/c now I have to drive home and I can’t be a complete mess! I keep thinking to myself, God, PLEASE let this be nothing. His first birthday is in two days and I want to celebrate his life, his health, and all the joy he’s brought us. I don’t want to worry, but I also know full well that tonight of course, will only be the first of the sleepless nights I will have over this news.
I get home and immediately tell Jeff. He’s concerned but I can tell he’s not showing how much. We decide to tell only my Mom, since I know I will need her support and we don't want to cause our families too much worry until we find out more. I cry a little through the afternoon, but eventually [and thankfully] I was distracted by my in-laws arriving for Paul’s birthday celebration over the coming weekend. (You all already heard the story of his wonderful birthday party, so just insert that story here.)
Continued in another post, since LIW is automatically cutting this down...
A little over a month ago, we were at the *height* of our frenzy to finish urgent house projects and finally MOVE into our home that we had closed on in January. Things were a mess - the kitchen was still ripped apart, no running water or working toilet on the first floor, boxes everywhere, not enough hours in the day, etc. My poor husband was working is day job AND working like a dog to finish things at the house until the wee hours of the morning – during this time, he probably lost at least 25 lbs. We spent almost every night and every weekend at the house and sometimes, we had no choice but to bring Paul with us. These were not ideal conditions to have a toddler in, but I tried my best to make it safe and comfortable for him.
However, I was not immune from feeling guilty and horrible for not paying closer attention to Paul's overall needs and nutrition at times. There were so many meals that we had skipped and while I never let Paul skip a meal, sometimes the schedule just meant that Paul ate his meals later than usual. He didn’t get as much active play time…sometimes; he’d sit in the Pack n Play or highchair for far too long. This of course, impacted his napping and regular sleep schedule too. It had a snowballing effect for us, b/c after being exhausted from all the work we were doing, then we’d be awake all night b/c Paul would not sleep.
This is all just the backdrop for what I'm about to explain. At Paul's 12 month well-baby check up, the pediatrician immediately expressed some concern for Paul's low weight gain from the previous two months. He had only put on a half pound, and she ideally would like to have him gaining 2 pounds/per month. [My inner voice is now immediately berating my horrible Mommy skills given the conditions we were living in, and I think, 'sure, hit me at my weakest spot possible!'].
So, I begin to explain to her a little bit about our situation w/the move etc. and immediately, she is sympathetic. We look closer at his chart and she says, that since he was also sick within the two previous months and experienced a reaction to one medication, it's possible that THOSE things contributed to his lack of weight gain. (I am eternally grateful for her ability to point the finger of failure elsewhere, even though I am giving myself most of the blame anyway.)
As Paul's exam progresses, her face changes. Only slightly. She listens to his heart, his lungs and then his heart again. She talks to Paul, lets him play with the ear instrument. He babbles and tries to wiggle away from her. She asks me softly to hold him. She listens to his heart again. She says, 'Hmmm,' with very little expression.
Now, those of you that are not yet parents will soon learn that doctor’s visits sometimes become barometers of how well you are able to raise a thriving individual, and sometimes, hopefully rarely, they can become life-altering moments.
I ask her quietly, already with a lump in my throat, 'Is something wrong?' You know, I do not really want to hear the answer to this question.
She says words that I can't erase, 'I hear an inconsistent beat in his heart. Like it stops for a beat and picks up again. It could be a murmur, but I don't hear it every time - only every other beat or so.'
My eyes immediately are filled w/tears and my knees get just a little bit weak. I hold Paul tighter and kiss him softly. Seeing my obvious fear, now she tries damage control. I should point out that I have immense respect and trust in this doctor – she has two careers – Mommy and Pediatrician, and she is an absolute doll in my eyes. She says, “It’s not something to worry about right now, but we’ll keep monitoring it. Just remember to mention it to whoever is examining Paul, and see if they still hear what I’ve heard today. Obviously, no one heard anything up until this point, so if it is a murmur, it is entirely possible that Paul will just outgrow it.” [This information, while reasonable and common, does not do ANYTHING to console a new Mom, just in case you are wondering.]
She also discovers that Paul has a lingering ear infection, and prescribes a different medicine to help him kick it. Because of the ear, he won’t be getting his scheduled immunization shots. So, the doctor again tries to calm me and as she passes me a tissue she says, “If I was truly alarmed by this, I’d be sending you to a specialist right now. Let’s see how Paul is feeling in two weeks and if I still hear something, then I’ll send you to a specialist to check it out.”
I dress Paul and try to calm myself, b/c now I have to drive home and I can’t be a complete mess! I keep thinking to myself, God, PLEASE let this be nothing. His first birthday is in two days and I want to celebrate his life, his health, and all the joy he’s brought us. I don’t want to worry, but I also know full well that tonight of course, will only be the first of the sleepless nights I will have over this news.
I get home and immediately tell Jeff. He’s concerned but I can tell he’s not showing how much. We decide to tell only my Mom, since I know I will need her support and we don't want to cause our families too much worry until we find out more. I cry a little through the afternoon, but eventually [and thankfully] I was distracted by my in-laws arriving for Paul’s birthday celebration over the coming weekend. (You all already heard the story of his wonderful birthday party, so just insert that story here.)
Continued in another post, since LIW is automatically cutting this down...
