Poor Baby Girl. She's on day 2 of fighting something that is causing a really high fever. Last night we woke up to her crying and when I went in to check on her she was so warm I thought her skin might melt off. I stripped her down and took her temperature and my heart dropped into my stomach. 104.7°. She was miserable, crying uncontrollably, thrashing around, inconsolable, moaning, gulping down water. I was miserable for her. I felt so helpless. So clueless. So ill-equipped.
Thankfully I don't have to do this motherhood thing by myself. I am so grateful for the four (yes, FOUR) people I woke up at 4:00am. My first calls were to my mom, then my sister (both nurses). On their advice I called Children's Mercy's ask-a-nurse line. While I waited for them to call back I got impatient and called my friend Holly (a pediatric nurse practitioner), but she didn't answer. So I called my friend Julie who fortunately was on-call so she woke up to my call. She was so sweet to me despite the hour of the morning. She told me I was a good mom, that Lila was going to be okay, that I didn't need to go to the ER, and what to do to get Baby Girl's fever down. While I was on the line with her, the ask-a-nurse lady called back and I got similar advice from her. Then Holly called back and the advice was confirmed again (not that I didn't trust Julie, but you moms out there know that it's so easy to second guess EVERYTHING when it comes to doing the right thing for your child - especially in crisis situations). I felt like the Lord was being very gracious to me with some very clear answers for the situation.
Soon Lila's fever was down to 103.3° so I knew the Tylenol/ibuprofen regiment was working. She was still pretty miserable though so we migrated back and forth between our bedroom and Lila's room, from the rocking chair to standing and swaying. Eventually I rocked her to sleep and I collapsed back into bed for all of an hour and a half when she woke up again - shivering and sweating because her fever had broken (hooray!). When her fever was still down in the morning I thought we might be in the clear, but Little Sister told me to take her to the doctor anyway. I'm so glad I took her in because by the time we got back home her fever was back up to 102.8° and she was miserable again. (By the way, Uncle Doctor said she has no visible signs of infection so they took some labs and hopefully we'll have some answers tomorrow.)
We had to go through the same extended routine as last night to get her down for a nap. Both of us were in tears again. She was miserable and I felt so sad for her. I kept giving her choices of what might soothe her; "Do you want Mommy to rock you? Do you want Mommy to stand up? Do you want to get in your bed? Do you want a drink of water?" Finally I asked, "Do you want Mommy to sing?" And she sobbed, "Yeeaaahhh." So I sang the first song that came to mind: Jesus Loves Me. I have often thought that song is really cliche and I haven't even really sung it to her that much, but as I sang it to her this afternoon, I started to cry because the words had never felt more relevant or promising:
Jesus loves me, this I know for the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to him belong. They are weak, but He is strong.
My sick little one was so very weak, but the One who loves her is strong! As I sang to Lila, I felt all my desperation to help my baby feel better overflow. I cried and prayed and sang about ten rounds of the song until I finally felt her go limp in my arms as she gave in to sleep.
Unfortunately, the nap didn't last long and the only thing she wanted to do when she got up was empty the contents of my purse and wallet:
|The alternative was watching Mahna Mahna for the 40th time today.|
We both were glad when the Husband came home from work early to cuddle Baby Girl. By the way, it should go without saying that the Husband was by my side each moment of our miserable heart-breaking night. But just in case it doesn't (go without saying), of course he was. He's that kind of guy.
I have a game plan for tonight which includes setting my alarm to make sure Lila stays pumped full of ibuprofen to keep her fever down. All the same, I'm still dreading a repeat of last night. I just have to keep reminding myself that Jesus loves my Little One (this I know) and she belongs to him. After all, her name is Lila.