I think every mother probably feels guilty on a weekly, or maybe even daily basis. I know that I do. How do you find the balance of being supportive but not smothering your child(ren)? How do you make your children mind while still letting them have fun? If you have more than one child, how do you spend quality time with them all?
On the way to the ER last night I felt particularly guilty. I always thought John would be my first trip to the ER. John climbs on everything, falls down a lot, jumps from one piece of furniture to another sometimes (we're working on this), so I always envisioned taking him in for stitches or a broken arm. But, as it turns out, Baby Wyatt ended up being our first trip to the ER.
Last night when I began feeding him he felt hot. I did not think a whole lot of it and tried to feed him. He was not very interested in taking his bottle, which still did not alarm me really. I did decide to take his temp and when the thermometer under his arm shot up to 102 in less than 2 seconds, I removed it and thought "this can't be right". I hoped it wasn't right but took his temp again and it read 103.4. Yikes. My poor Pat Pat.
When the on-call doctor said to take him to the ER immediately, my heart started racing. Ashley stayed behind with the twins and I left the house with nothing but a diaper bag that contained no passy and enough formula for 1 bottle...good job, Mom. (Did I mention guilt?)
My mind just raced on the way to the ER. What could be wrong? What if something is really wrong? Maybe he is so laid back because something is wrong with him?
Finally we got seen by the doctor and (as if I did not feel bad enough about not having enough formula or a passy) the questioning started:
When did you notice he was warm? (umm, I am not sure)
Has he had wet diapers? (umm, yeah, I mean I think so)
Has he been acting lethargic? (ummm, he is always pretty laid back)
How long has he been this congested? (a long time, but I have taken him to the doctor for it before).
So much guilt came over me. My poor baby is sick and I have been so busy just doing the normal day to day things that I have not noticed anything. I felt like I was defending the fact that I do pay attention to my child.
So the doctor left and I cried, called Ashley and then decided to let myself off the hook; we all do the best we can.
After a lot of tests, the doctor said that Wyatt was OK. Just a virus. Thank you God.
By this point it was officially my birthday. 2:15 AM to be exact. As I walked out to the car with my sleeping sac of potatoes over my shoulder (who, by the way, weighs almost 17 pounds) I thought it appropriate to ring in my birthday with the person who had changed my life the most in the last year...my precious William Wyatt.