Forgotten Sleep

when we aren’t the ones in immediate danger.

Big Girl has been dealing with stomach pains for a few weeks now. In the wee, small hours of Sunday morning, she vomited in her bed. We changed her sheets and her pajamas, and she went back to sleep. Some time between 1:45 and 7:20, she threw up again. The next day, she was fine, until around 5 when she decided that all she wanted to do was curl up in my lap and watch TV. This is, decidedly, uncharacteristic.

But Monday morning, she seemed to be back to her normal self. That is, until I received a 3:15 phone call from her school, informing me that she had vomited again. I immediately got to my car and went to get her. As soon as I walked in the door, I went to hug her. She said, “Mommy, I want to drink water.” Then, she vomited. All over me. She took a step back, and as people were scurrying to find towels and napkins to wipe me off, she let loose again….far more this time. My lovely green wool pencil skirt was covered in yesterday’s lunch. By the looks of it, it was macaroni and cheese and peas. Yum.

I took her immediately to urgent care where we waited to be seen for somewhere between 30 and 45 minutes. The intermediate diagnosis (due to insufficient resources) was potential appendicitis. So, off to the emergency department we went. (Of course, during this time, Loving Husband was freaking out at home with Little Man.) Fortunately, the doctor at urgent care was called ahead to the emergency department, so we were immediately taken back to a room. We spent the next 3.5 hours, talking to nurses and doctors. Ultimately, appendicitis was ruled out, and a wicked case of gastroenteritis was ruled in. Lucky us — read this as both relief and sarcasm.

This is the part of parenting that is the hardest. I had to maintain my composure and make being in the hospital seem like a fun experience for Big Girl to keep her from getting upset. All the while, I’m freaking out inside, wondering what is wrong with my precious child. Is her appendix betraying her at such a young age? Does she had another blockage? Does she have some heinous form of the flu? Is she facing surgery? Any question that I could’ve considered, I did.

It was just another case of my learning what it really means to be a mom. Anything that I’ve ever encountered or dealt with as a patient myself pales in comparison to sitting with my little child last night for six hours, waiting for a prognosis.

God was merciful to us, and she’s fine. But, I’ll never forget the fear, anxiety and emotional drainage I experienced. Being a parent is tough.