If there are any of you out there reading, you will recall that we had some very serious issues with A's bowels when he was first born. Though he was healed after three months, I took more than another year to finally feel like I was more on top of my fear and hurt. The past day really put me to the test again.
Pardon the wealth of information, but we weighed the evidence. A had pooped earlier in the day, and was passing gas. He was also hungry and thirsty. This is a very good sign that no bowel obstruction existed. We kept waiting for him to have to vomit or have major blowouts, but nothing came of it. E put him to bed, and after sleeping for just 1.5 hours, he was up and howling/crying/writhing again.
On and off through the night it went. E stayed up with him first. Mostly because she's amazing, but also b/c I'm ridiculously unable to function without sleep. Plus, there's a baby in this womb. Finally, I relieved her around 3:30 and she caught an hour or two of broken sleep. At 6am, we decided that he was in too much pain, and that things were obviously not getting any better. We got ready to go, and then he fell asleep. Since he'd only had a few 20 minutes naps throughout the night, we let him sleep; however, 40 minutes later he woke up writhing again and E put him in the car to go to the ER.
I followed about 25 minutes behind. E had insisted I get more sleep, but I couldn't, so I got up and set the dogs up for hours of being left alone, then I left. by the time I had arrived, they were already checked into pediatric emergency. Within moments we were talking to the nurse practitioner and then off to xray. Soon thereafter we had our diagnosis: constipation.
A was such an amazing trooper through it all: blood pressures, xrays, urine sample (catheter), and then an enema and explosive poop. All on no sleep. He was a-ma-zing. He is also healthy.
It was hard though, for me. I was so f***ing scared. I kept thinking that he must have a partial blockage. I thought, "great, we moved away from the one surgeon who can fix my son." E confessed that she had a backup plan of driving back to our old city to see our old doc. (I would have gone for it!!) I was afraid for his pain, and I was afraid for mine. I was trying too, to show him that he would be ok and taken care of. I didn't want him to see my fear because I know that my emotions can make it worse for him. I didn't want to have too much stress because I didn't want to put that on the baby growing inside of me, my other child, A's sibling-to-be.
The constipation diagnosis was such a relief. We really did need to be there (I won't go into detail about this, but A definitely needed help getting those intestines cleaned out!) We didn't, however, have an emergency on our hands. Not really. Not like last time. My son is big and healthy and strong. I do treat him that way, but it is so nice to have the affirmation that he is.
Tonight, I sang my exhausted little boy to sleep. I sang him the songs I sang every day in the NICU. My Boy (Girl) and You are my Sunshine. I didn't even cry. I just held him as he drifted off to sleep, peacefully. I can't wait to snuggle him again in the morning, just like normal!
I am so glad that things turned out ok... I can appreciate how terrifying that must have been-- how the whole experience would have brought you back to a place you did not want to go... Thank god it was easily remidied with an enema, and maybe a bit more fibre!
ReplyDelete