Monday was Avey's 2 month check up. Every mother living in the United States knows what that means-- shots. I was literally in a state of panic.
Brady and I had discussed immunizing Avey with our family doctor before she was born. It's not that we're against immunizations-- Brady puts it this way, "I don't feel comfortable about pumping something into my little baby girl when I'm not 100% sure what's in it." I agree.
We also believe that our God is a God that heals our afflictions. Should you immunize your child or trust in the Lord for their health and well being? What if your child is part of the unlucky number of people that experience an adverse reaction to the immunizations? Seizures, extreme pain, diarrhea and vomiting are just a few of the risks that you take.
It's tough being a Mom. It's tough making the calls when you don't have the book in front of you and can't read the ending.
We decided that she would would receive 3 of the 5 recommended immunizations.
We arrived at the doctors office Monday morning and they ushered us back to a private waiting area so we wouldn't have to sit with the sick people.
When they brought us back to the room they did a little check-up. Sister is 9 lbs now! Giddy up! Yeehaw!
Then it was time for her shots. I sat in the corner on the other side of the room while Brady held her steady and whispered sweet words to her. Three sticks.
We both cried. Avey and I-- not Brady. He's a big strong man. Then it was over and Brady handed her to me and as we nursed I tried to dry her tears with my blouse.
Then it was my turn. The nurse fiddled around with my hands and tried to find a vein because it was time to get my thyroid checked again. They ended up sticking me three times too. I felt better then. At least it was fair.
They told us that she would be fussy and to call if she started running a high fever or experienced any diarrhea or excessive vomiting.
She slept for the next four or five hours while Brady and I ate lunch and ran errands. Sister was stressed and worn flat out.
After we were home and settled in for the night she decided she needed her Momma and we nursed for the next twelve hours or so. Sister was traumatized I'm telling ya!
This morning things went back to normal. We cuddled all morning and watched the Bachelor. After lunch I was checking my facebook and something not normal happened-- she began projectile vomiting all over the bed (sans comforter-- remember?). My baby became a fountain and more vomit than a baby should be allowed to produce flowed forth from the depths of her belly.
I was panicked. I picked her up and held her close while she made little hiccuping sounds. I began to walk around-- because that's what you do when you don't know what to do-- and we ended up in the hallway. I dialed my moms number without even thinking and it went to voicemail.
I was kicking myself for saying yes to the immunizations. Something terrible was happening.
Before I could finish dialing Brady she began to puke all over again. By the time Brady picked up the phone (4th ring) she was covered, I was covered, and the hallway was covered. I am pretty sure I was just a little bit hysterical when I tried to tell him what was going on through my tears.
He handled it well. He always does. He calmly spoke to me and reassured me that everything was okay while asking direct, problem solving questions. So rational. So unlike me.
I dialed the doctors office next. I told them I needed to speak to the doctor and they said okay and forwarded me to a voicemail. I called back sobbing and told them that I needed to speak to a doctor not a voicemail. They told me that the doctors were busy and so I told them my baby was puking everywhere and she just got her immunizations and and I didn't know what was wrong.
The woman on the other end of the phone perked up and asked "Here? You got the immunizations here? When? What's her name? Let me get a nurse!"
Like magic I was talking to a nurse within the next 10 seconds.
She told me to check her temperature. Why didn't I think of that?
She told me to check the injection sights. To look for swelling or any abnormalities. Why didn't I think of that?
She told me that she was fine. She probably just had some reflex but to keep an eye on her and her temperature and to call back in the morning.
I sat us both down in the tub-- clothes and all and I turned on the water as hot as it would go (which is not so hot). Avey laid back to float like she always does and floated around in the water smiling and cooing. I called Brady back and let him know things were okay. I got ahold of my mother and let her know what was going on. I stripped off our soaking wet cloths and Avey started rooting so we nursed in the water and I cried.
I ugly cried.
I-- mascara going everywhere, couldn't catch my breath, shoulder shaking, belly aching, cried.
Because the only one I've ever had to worry about is me. Because I'm one of those lucky people that hasn't experienced death or deep gut wrenching worry that comes with being a mother. Because going through an 8 day NICU stay was nothing compared to being alone with a sick little baby and not knowing how to make it better or if it was going to be better at all.
Because when the kid you nanny pukes it's inconvenient. When the kid you made pukes it's heartbreaking and terrifying.
Dude. I became a Mommy today.
I felt the weight of it and my responsibility like I've never felt before. I know that I will have a million more awakenings. I know that Brady and I have been so blessed to have it so easy so far. This little person. This little 9 pound person is a part of me. If something ever happened to her there would be no coming back from the kind of devastation it would cause. I would rather bleed. Die. Get stuck with a million needles than see her in pain.
My love for her is infinite. I don't know who she'll become or what she'll accomplish. If she never accomplishes anything it wont change a thing. My heart is lost. She's got it all and she doesn't even know it yet.
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