Late Sunday night I stood in front of the bathroom mirror and observed my favorite teal shirt peppered by spots of snot, tears, drool, and vomit.
One of my major new parent fears: I've dreaded the first high fever. High, to me, being anything over 101. And I was pretty sure nothing could be scarier than it happening in the middle of the night.
Sev fell asleep at his usual nap time Sunday afternoon. He woke up a little later than usual and then fell back to sleep. This happened twice. He napped for most of the day.
My mother had spent the weekend with us so Jason and I could have a nice date night Saturday. Sev had a lot of excitement with his grandma, and after two full days of play time I didn't think it was totally odd that he would be more tired than usual. When I finally tried to wake him for a little play time before dinner, he felt hot. He was bundled, but he still felt a little too warm, so I stripped him down to just his onesie and waited 20 minutes before checking his temperature.
My mother had spent the weekend with us so Jason and I could have a nice date night Saturday. Sev had a lot of excitement with his grandma, and after two full days of play time I didn't think it was totally odd that he would be more tired than usual. When I finally tried to wake him for a little play time before dinner, he felt hot. He was bundled, but he still felt a little too warm, so I stripped him down to just his onesie and waited 20 minutes before checking his temperature.
The thermometer read 103.2. It was Sunday night and the snow had begun to fall a good hour ago already. I took it again, just to be sure. 103.2. He's never had a fever even close to that high. A strange, controlled, sort of new mom panic took over. I called the doctors office, connected with their call service and was semi-reassured by their directions to give him tylenol to bring the fever down, to keep him hydrated and rested, and to monitor the fever to make sure it didn't go over 103.5. Apparently .3 is more than it sounds like in terms of fever.
We had Infant Tylenol, thankfully. Sev let me give him the weird purple-y grape smelling liquid and J and I sat on the floor in his room discussing the call center directions as I held the poor little patient in my arms. Within a couple minutes he projectile vomited what looked like the whole day's feedings. This was followed by the saddest little sound I've ever heard. It was Sev's sweet voice making a long, drawn out "ugh" that sounded like he just had the most unpleasant experience of his life. Then the tears came. He must have felt just awful. And now he most likely lost the Tylenol I'd just given him to help bring the fever down.
Back to the call center.
We had Infant Tylenol, thankfully. Sev let me give him the weird purple-y grape smelling liquid and J and I sat on the floor in his room discussing the call center directions as I held the poor little patient in my arms. Within a couple minutes he projectile vomited what looked like the whole day's feedings. This was followed by the saddest little sound I've ever heard. It was Sev's sweet voice making a long, drawn out "ugh" that sounded like he just had the most unpleasant experience of his life. Then the tears came. He must have felt just awful. And now he most likely lost the Tylenol I'd just given him to help bring the fever down.
Back to the call center.
The next three days I stayed home from work to care for sweet, sicky Sev. There was vomit and tears, and lots of snuggling and sympathy. The doctor said there were a couple viruses going around and I was given directions pretty similar to those given by the call service Sunday night. He ran a high fever right through to Wednesday morning and then it dropped, for the first time in days without the help of tylenol, to a mom-calming 100.3.
By the middle of the day he seemed as good as new.
I had just fought one of my fears and, though it had less to do with my attentive love and care than the nature of the illness and the impressive fever reducing qualities of Tylenol, Sev was okay. I did okay. I'm a pretty okay mom.
