While at the hospital I had a lot of down time, because infants sleep a lot, and I had no house to clean and no toddler to take care of (well, I still had them, but they were unavailable). And, I was between good books, and was unwilling to pay $11 a day for the TV. Okay, so here some of them are:
*I didn't love any of the hospital experience, but an important parental rite of passage is now completed, a visit to the ER and a hospital stay. I'd love to never re-experience any of this.
*Babs had a roommate who was 2 weeks old, but had the same problem: an unexplained high temperature, and they were waiting for it to either be explained or resolve itself. Which meant there was another mom dealing with the same issues I was (except her baby was TEENY, and mine is not). It was interesting to see different family dynamics, like how she dealt with her baby, family interaction and the like. She was also bilingual, and would talk to her mom changing languages seemingly on a whim. I'd like to have that skill (especially with Spanish!).
*I'm generally tougher than my husband about watching our kids get procedures done. So, when they drew blood, or took x-rays, I loved her, I held her, and told her that life was tough, so deal with it. My husband apologizes and gets teary. When they told us they were admitting her (which came as a surprise to both of us) he started to cry. I just accepted it. As my husband drove home, he told me that occasionally he would sob. Then Kiddo would pipe up: no, dadda can not be sad, I will be sad. Then she would fake cry for a bit. At least she offered comic relief. I cried in relief when Babs acted enough like usual self that I knew she was all better.
[A side story: as we put the girls in the car to go to the ER, Babs was crying, which is often what she does in the first five minutes of so that she's in her car seat, especially when she's tired. As I latched Kiddo in, she started fake crying. I said "What's wrong?" She looked at me guilelessly and said matter-of-factly "both my girls are crying." "No," I replied, "you do not need to cry." She loves for them to be doing the same thing.]
*The view from our sixth floor room (we were next to the window) was one of the largest parks in the area, so lots of trees, then the NYC skyline. If you have to be stuck in a hospital, that's not a bad gig, especially at night.
*Throughout the initial procedures in the ER, I consoled myself that if we had to be there, at least she was darling in her tiny hospital gown.
*I will now ask more questions when they go to stick my kids. They stuck her IV port in the arm she sucks. That was an uncomfortable three days as she tried to get her hand back to her mouth.*I asked a lot of questions before the last procedure (the spinal tap, when I had to sign a waiver). I wanted to be sure it was necessary. At one point the doctor said "We agreed to this earlier." Had I been more coherent (it was around 2 am) I would have said "No, you explained it to me and I indicated I understood earlier." I respect the education and knowledge that it must take to become a doctor, probably more than most given how much time I've spent educating myself. I trust and need that expertise, but they should not expect me to give them a carte blanche with my child, because they don't have my mother heart for her.
*I left Secundus in her crib alone in her room (with her roommate) to get some food for the vending machine. As I stood waiting for the elevator my head jumped to thinking about families who have long-term visits to hospitals, and long-terms illnesses, and my heart almost broke in sorrow for them. I had to change thought topics very soon because of the horror of it all. How do they do it? I'm sure they do it the same way we survive all hard problems, one day, one moment at a time. I never want to know.
*I am so grateful to live in a land where expertise and medicine are so plentiful. And to have good insurance that makes it accessible. And an expectation of health for my family. And priesthood blessings.
