Hospitalized

It all happened so fast. 

Three hours to get sick.

Three hours in ER and we are in a room in PEDS.

Then, three days till we are home.

 

Emerson was super sleepy but showing no signs of illness, so after her last bottle at 9:30pm we went to bed. I woke up a few times to a sniffly uncomfortable baby, but by 12:30am I could feel her burning up and really starting to breathe heavy. Her temp was at 102 but it was her continuous wheezing that had me worried.
By 1am we were in the ER. 

Something I will never forget though is that despite how sick she was, she still smiled at you. She wasn't crying, just observing, perhaps too weak, but you could feel this sense of calm through her despite the panic that was building in me. I sang to her the entire way to the hospital and cringed every time I heard her gagging cough. 

The order of the ER procedures is a bit of a blur. At first they thought it was croup. Breathing treatments. Crying. Flu test. Breathing treatment. Crying. Sleeping (her, not me). Flu test is positive. Crying. Medicine. Sleeping. Being admitted.

The IV (or any blood drawing) was the worst part of everything. All I could do was hold her hands down and sing to her (between some sobs of my own). The fact that I couldn't make the pain go away for her as they struggled to find a vein hurt me so much. When they finally finished the IV, she brought her hands together to hold them over her eyes (as she always does) and immediately she was tugging the IV. Uh Oh. The nurses quickly wrapped her hand (well, whole arm) so that she wouldn't pull it out.

Little lady was supposed to wear a hospital gown, the tiniest one ever. Well we had to cut off her pjs to get it on. Adorable, but sad to see her in it.

 

Once in our own room, Emerson already had better complexion and was breathing easier with less wheeze. She was so perplexed by this thing on her arm. It melted my heart to see her starring at it and trying to understand why she couldn't grab her hand.

I began to feel very comfortable that things were under control and that she was being taken care of, all precautions being met after seeing the pediatrician that morning in our room. We stayed for three days, as her fever spiked over 102 two more times and she needed breathing treatments. Em was tired most of the time but awake and curious. She just starred at each and every nurse or doctor to come in, watching them with such innocence, trust and wonderment. She loved to be held but slept ok on her own too for most of the nights. Me, my wonderful father, mother and mother-in-law relieved me for showers, Starbucks runs and an attempted nap but otherwise I stayed by my baby girls side.

 

Through my sadness with this whole scary experience, I was able to put in perspective. While trying to stay awake while she was sound asleep on my shoulder I was scrolling through social media and came across a story of an infant a little older than Em who had been in and out of the hospital through all sorts of tests as he fought a life threatening illness he was born with. My heart goes out to all the children and parents that have to go through something like this on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. It is heart breaking.
 

We are so happy to have Em home healthy. I was too well aware that her condition was not something to be messed with; her age, size and the flu made for a potential very serious combination. When we got home, the evening news (similar report here) reported two dozen pediatric deaths from the flu just that week. We are so thankful that we caught it when we did and that she was able to receive great care.

 

Wash your hands everyone, and watch your littles.