Thursday, January 9, 2014

Once a mommy, always a mommy.

Its 3:27 am. Pardon me if some words are wrong, some spelling off and punctuation missing. I'm typing from my phone if for no other reason than to keep an eye on Liam in his dark room. 

We're pretty sure he's teething. The signs are all there and believe me- we know teeth. He's got 16 of them, and that's where I stopped counting. Mostly because he won't open his mouth for me to check. 

When Liam teethes, he's very predictable. Runny nose, runny poops, chewing on everything he can fit in his mouth, drooling, extreme clumsiness, and, you guessed it, a fever. Except my kid gets the stupidest fevers ever. Not only does his head get warm, and his cheeks turn red- but also the backs of his knees are burning up, the back of his neck is on fire, and his palms are almost untouchable they're so hot. 

So you know what my brain and my husband's brain is doing right now. You know it. We are now on super high alert for another seizure. I gave him Tylenol before bed and Motrin when he woke up at 2am screaming (first heart stopping moment) and then a bath when he woke up screaming again when he was in our bed with us (second heart stopping moment). 

I tried to play off the bath like mommy was crazy. "Want to take a silly bath in the middle of the night time????" I put in extra bubbles and a blue fizzy tablet, which I'm sure put me into "best momma EVER" status in his little brain. But the whole time I'm watching him play, I'm just praying over and over- please don't seize. 

Once a momma always a momma. He's in my arms now, in his glider, and I can't help but feel his hot little hand on my chest. His eyes are open and closed, and all the while I'm waiting for his little body to stiffen and those eyes to glass over and not know me. It could still happen. Febrile seizures are caused by a spike in temperature, and the neurologist said if they're going to happen, you can't stop them. That's relieving. Said no momma ever. 

Andy's back to sleep again- although I'm sure it's not a restful sleep. He's got to work 12 hours tomorrow and I'm sure he's going to reach comatose around the 6 hour mark. His job is very intense. But I'm sitting here, awake, trying not to worry about the baby in my arms (it's not working) trying not to think about the bills incurred from the last seizure (also not working) and TRYING not to think about how tired I'm going to be at work today (definitely not working).

But once a momma always a momma. And I can't turn it off. So I'll lay him down and sleep beside him, and some day he'll be 20 and not remember this. But I always will. Because, well, you know.