Saturday, March 26, 2011: Hospital corners

Gavin went to the hospital yesterday. He had a bad allergic reaction after eating a couple bites of a vegan hippie bar with cashews in it. He broke out in hives, his nose started to run constantly and as soon as I finished leaving a message for his doctor his eyes started to swell shut. I took him to the emergency room. Laura went with me. After some Benadryl and prednisone the swelling started to go down and the hives went away. It was super scary, but his airway never started to close or anything so that's good. We spent several hours in the hospital and got home around 1 p.m.

This picture was taken after the medicine started to work (he is no longer hysterical at this point and the swelling has started to go down). He looks cute even with a puffy face. But I don't ever want to see this puffy version of Gavin again. The only nuts he's allowed to have for the time being are the ones in his pants. The doctor wrote him a prescription for an EpiPen should this happen again.

I'll admit I was freaked out. His face went from zero to "holy shit!" in minutes. Driving to the hospital I felt complete and utter road rage. It felt like everyone was doing 10 under the speed limit. Gavin was crying hysterically in the back seat. If I had Inspector Gadget arms I would have reached through their windows and punched them in the face. When we got to the emergency room I took Gavin in and I had to go through a metal detector like I was at the airport. Gavin's screaming and puffing up like crazy and there's a guy there asking, "Do you have any metal in your pockets? A cell phone, keys, change..." It didn't take a long time, but it did take time, which is not something I felt I had any to spare at that moment. When I took Gavin up to the desk a guy in scrubs sat up and said, "Allergic reaction?" and I said, "I think so," and he said, "I'll take him back while you get set up here with the paperwork," and he whisked Gavin away. Which I hated. Which Gavin hated even more. Since he was born at this same hospital he was already in the system, but when they first asked me his name I came really close to losing it and managed to choke out his name and how to spell it. "Hold it together, Mom," the lady said. She was nice about it, though. But what freaked me out was the look on the guy's face when he stood up and asked if Gavin was having an allergic reaction. He looked kind of freaked. Which made me feel really freaked since I'm assuming this guy works in an emergency room and has probably seen some intense stuff. So I think, "Gavin's gonna die," but thankfully (spoiler alert) he doesn't.

When the guy comes to lead me back to Gavin only a couple minutes have elapsed but I can hear Gavin screaming like a mad man. He is super scared and pissed and uncomfortable and when I get to him I have to help take his clothes off. He's wearing his footie PJs with sharks on them and a striped onesie. I have a hard time getting them off since he's not cooperating. They took a rectal temperature and I don't know how much he hated that since he was already pushing his "I hate this" levels into the red. When the doctor looked at his ears and throat he said, "All done," in the saddest way possible, as if he was begging. He was, of course, not all done. The doctor asked if he'd eaten anything new and I said, "Cashews" and he said, "Ah, cashews," in a tone that I read to mean, "You are the world's worst mother ever in the history of the universe since everyone knows you don't give cashews to a child this young." Except I didn't know. I mean, he's been eating peanut butter for a year now and he's had almond butter and has never had any problems. Until now.

After his medicine kicked in he fell asleep on my chest. That part was quite wonderful, though a far too steep price to pay to have Gavin cuddle up on me. He woke up when I had to pee and tried to transfer him over to Laura. It's much easier to wrangle a sleeping baby than a wide-awake baby inside of a children's emergency ward. Just a little tip for you.

At one point a woman with a clip board came back and asked me to sign consenting to treatment. Which I did without thinking twice. After all, I'm his mom and I want him to be treated or I wouldn't have brought him to the hospital, I would have just stayed at home and prayed over his rapidly swelling face or something. A short while later the woman came back and told me that since I wasn't really his mom my signature didn't count and they were going to need verbal consent from Stacy. She was super, super nice about it. But it still sucked. She said if we had adoption papers we should keep a copy on file. When I said, "We're not allowed to do that here," meaning I'm not allowed to legally adopt my own son in Michigan since Stacy is his biological mother. "Or guardianship papers," she added. Which we also don't have. We have some papers, but they don't establish me as his legal mom. They do communicate Stacy's desire for me to act as his legal mom when I need to, though. It's a paper Stacy has to sign every 6 months so I'm not sure how keeping it on file in the hospital would work. But I should have had it with me. Needless to say, there were a lot of things I forgot that morning including the diaper bag, which I think even has a copy of this paper in it. But like I said, the woman at the hospital was really nice about it. Still, it sucked.

Did I mention I already felt terrible? Although Laura assured me that I wasn't a bad mom. As did Lisa. As did Jamie. As did Stacy. But you don't have to really stretch your imagination to wonder how shitty it feels to watch your kid's face swell up like Shrek knowing that it's all because of something you did. I mean, I suppose I could blame Gavin for accepting the little bites of LÄRABAR I gave him, but I am pretty sure those under two count as minors in most states.

I'm happy to report that his face is not swollen at all any more and he's doing really well and is almost 100% back to his happy Gavin self. I say "almost" because he had a rough nap today. He's still on the prednisone and Stacy said one of the possible side effects was trouble sleeping (she read the info from the pharmacy, I didn't). So who knows, maybe that's why. Or maybe it's just because yesterday was such a fucked up day. I know I was exhausted but still not able to sleep easily.

Gavin loves medication. I'm afraid he's kind of a child junkie. He actually requests Tylenol by name ("Ty") and after he gets a dose he always says, "Mas." Granted, the only meds he's ever had aside from shots have been sickly sweet grape (yuck), cherry (double yuck,) or bubblegum (yuck to infinity) flavors. He's never had candy and we don't feed him many super sweet things. I'd say the sweetest thing he has on a regular basis is fruit. He's had cake before but it's been a long time (his first birthday may even be the last time). So while it isn't difficult to give Gavin medicine, it is a little disconcerting how eagerly he gulps it down. Definitely going to have to hide that stuff.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011: Slumber party

I rarely get to see Gavin sleeping. Sometimes he nods off in his carseat, but watching him while he's in his crib is usually out of the question. We've tried before, tiptoeing into his room at night only to wake him up and end up with a tired and pissed off baby. But yesterday morning Gavin was still snoozing dangerously close to the time Stacy has to leave for work and she nurses him in the morning. "I'm going to have to wake him up," Stacy said to me. I was not 100% behind this plan. As I said, it's been my experience that you never wake up a sleeping baby, you just thank a god you may or may not even believe in that the baby is sleeping at all. But since he's been sick it was especially important that he nurse this morning since we've been trying to pump him full of liquids (I am happy to report that as of today he's doing much better and is back at daycare after missing a week). She Stacy opened his bedroom door and crept in. I followed. The only light was that from the hallway. He did not wake up. He kept snoozing away, on his side, legs crossed at the ankles (he was in one of those sleep sacks with feet), his head at the end of the bed (we'd propped the head of his mattress up a little bit to elevate his sick head, but he'd apparently spun around some time in the night), his arms jutting out from his body toward up, little hands curled into fists. And his little chest rising and falling with his slightly rattling inhales and exhales. It was dreamy, in the most literal and furative way. "Do you have to wake him up?" I asked Stacy. He just looked so peaceful, but she said yes and started to stroke his back and hair. He did not stir. She then gently plucked him from his crib, his eyes popped open and still he didn't cry. He was perfectly amiable about being yanked out of slumberland. He didn't even fuss when Stacy changed his diaper (which was mostly dry, hence the need to get as much liquid in him as possible). So clearly there are exceptions to the don't wake a sleeping baby rule. But I still wouldn't press my luck.

Lisa and Brenden left to go back to California on Sunday. Sad for us. I think Gavin dug having a little playmate around. At one point he wanted to get into his crib and then indicated that he also wanted Brenden in his crib. After they were zipped in (he has a crib tent to keep out the cat who actually never goes in his crib. We should have gotten a tent for the changing table, which is where the cat is almost always lounging) Gavin started to jump around like they were in a moon-bounce house. Granted, Gavin's jumping is not very advanced yet so he doesn't really leave the ground with both feet at the same time. Still, he had a good time knocking around in there until Brenden stepped on him. I would have loved to take them to Pump It Up but their open bounce didn't coincide with Gavin and Brenden together time. Alas.

We did go to Play in Rochester. The boys had lots of fun. We'd taken Gavin there once before and he really liked it then, too. This time he was even more daring and confident. He totally owned the toddler play section. Lisa and I took the boys to the big kid section and crawled around up there with them. The boys loved it but Lisa and I got very hot. I took Gavin down the big slide and we cralwed through tubes and little passage ways, Gavin right in front of me. I was scared that he'd end up tumbling down an opening or something, though he probably would have been fine. I was likely more freaked out than he was. Actually, he wasn't freaked out at all, so I definitely was. While we were there the fire alarm in the kitchen went off (they serve cafe type food there and something that was being made was burning). Gavin did not like this. It was about the same volume as a home smoke detector and since it was in a much larger area it wasn't ear splitting or anything, but he kept saying, "Loud," and was very concerned. Thankfully the alarm didn't last long. While on the toddler play area an older girl (maybe 4) was goading a younger girl (maybe a two) to say, "Poop." "Say poop," she said. The younger girl twisted her torso and face away as if in shyness. Gavin was behind them waiting to climb up the structure. He turned to me and gave me a look like, "Mom, they're in my way." "Say poop," her older companion said again. Gavin turned and looked right at me and said, "Poop," with a look on his face like, "See? I can say it. What's this little girl's problem? It's not like it's hard."

Lisa took some really good pictures at Play and I am hoping she uploads them soon and sends them to me so I can post some. I miss her and Brenden very much and really wish our boys lived closer.

Friday, March 11, 2011: Bear and Monkey

"Dirt." That's my name. When Gavin sees a photo of me or I ask him who I am, the answer is, "Dirt." It is, my best guess anyway, short for Mama D. He calls Stacy "Mom," short for Mommy, of course. Emma he calls "Em." Jota he calls "Meow." Henri, well, he doesn't refer to Henri by name, though Stacy said he has called Henri "Em" before. He has started to say his own name, too, but like Mama D becomes "Dirt," Gavin becomes "Gay." Don't tell DHS. I can't even really begin to express how much I love being called "Dirt," especially since today, for the first time, Gavin actually requested me over Stacy. He wanted help putting his socks on because they were falling off (a common occurrence. If they aren't falling off then he's usually already pulled them off. The kid just prefers to be barefoot, even in the winter. It is not something I can relate to. Thankfully I love his feet). Stacy went to help him and he said, "No. Dirt." "Do you want Mama D to help you?" Stacy asked. And he nodded. "Dirt." Aww...

Gavin's best friend Brenden has been over to play for the past two days. Brenden is Gavin's best friend because he is Lisa's son and she's my best friend, so Gavin doesn't get a lot of say in it. Brenden is six weeks older than Gavin. He and Lisa live in California, which is sad because that is very far away. Gavin's been battling a cold these past few days so he hasn't been feeling his best, but he's still having fun with Brenden. I love watching them play together, even if most of their play consists of looking at the other and thinking, "Hey, what's that? I must have whatever is in your hands in my hands immediately." Sometimes this involves tears. Sometimes this involves a nearby adult to say, "Hands are not for hitting." Talk about "sharing" is also bandied about. "Oh, Sharing," the kids say, "you suck."

Since Gavin has been a coughing, snotty mess his appetite is all off. He's not interested in food or drink. He's fasting. For Lent. Although I don't know how he even knows about Lent. We're giving him watered down apple juice, really pulling out the big guns (that's not sarcasm. We never give him anything besides water and milk to drink). It works, but only a little. Yesterday he didn't wake up in the morning until 9:30, which alarmed us all. I actually slept in that day since Stacy took the day off of work since she, too, was sick. When I got up at about 8:30 when Henri ran into the room and put his paws up on the side of the mattress, apparently the only one who was worried about me potentially being late for work (including me. I was very much unconscious). When I came out into the living room and saw Stacy on the computer and Gavin's door closed I said, "Where's Gavin?" I was so confused. But he was still snoozing. He usually is up by 6, 6:30. Stacy said she would be afraid he was dead except she'd heard him coughing. When he woke up he was so out of it and he was soaked, as Stacy put it, "From toenail to armpit" in pee. His night time diapers have served us well, but three extra hours were too much to handle. He slept for three hours at nap yesterday, too. By the time he woke up, Lisa and Brenden were already here. He was very shy and clingy at first having just woken up, but eventually he warmed to having Brenden here and was in a really good mood in spite of his coughing and snot.

Thankfully Gavin seems to be feeling much better today. In fact, he was so much better after his nap today. Brenden and Lisa came over this morning before his nap so they didn't see this miraculous recovery, but before I put him to bed I must have been wiping his nose every 10 minutes at least. After his nap I didn't have to wipe his nose for almost an hour. He's still sick, no doubt, but he's getting better all the time.

Tomorrow we have dinner with Lisa and Brenden and then they go home on Sunday, which is much too soon and quite unfair. I am hoping we can get a good picture of the boys together. I did take some cute ones of them sitting together on Lisa's lap reading a book together. Some day when I have time (around the time Gavin goes to college, I think) I will upload them. Until then, just imagine something so cute it makes you smile so hard your face gets sprained.