Anna in the hospital

On the night of January 17th we had to take our sweet baby girl to the Emergency room. She caught a bad cold from daycare, either a classmate or her big brother, its going around like crazy. Well the sniffles turned into a cough and then got down into her lungs. I kept calling the pediatrician for advice and I kept hearing the same thing. If she wasn’t wheezing and if it wasn’t a dry cough, don’t risk bringing her into the office. So we kept doing the saline and trying to comfort her as best we could. But then one night things just seemed worse. She had a bad coughing fit and then couldn’t catch her breath. I took her to the bathroom and ran the hot water to see if the steam would help and then took her outside in the cold, neither worked. The pediatrician on call said if she was breathing more than 60 times a minute that we should take her to the ED. We counted several times, and every time she were up around 70+. We kept thinking we had miscounted. We went back and forth on whether or not to even take her, but I felt certain I wouldn’t regret taking her.

I got my reassurance that we had made the right choice when Dimitri (James’ Greek name, and also George’s dad’s name) checked us into the ED. We were seen right away and they started her on a breathing treatment after assessing her. She ended up laughing through the treatments. We couldn’t believe how happy she seemed to be despite what the doctors were telling us. The mask they gave her was hilarious. Its meant to look like a dragon puffing smoke! At this point, I thought we would just get a breathing treatment and head home.

But then after two different treatments failed to slow her breathing and she was still breathing at 80+times per minute, the doctor decided to admit her. George and I were shocked that we wouldn’t be going home that night. Our precious baby in her tiny hospital gown would need to be on oxygen and monitored. While we waited for our room, we took her for an x-ray of her lungs, which was clear, and then did a deep suction session on her. This was awful. The respiratory therapist stuck a tiny tube through her nose, down the back of her throat and into her lungs, all while I held her arms down and listened to her scream and gag and choke. Again, it was awful. I wanted so badly to scoop her up and tell her everything will be ok, but instead I just held her down while she pleaded at me with her big  blue eyes. Gut wrenching and awful.

Anna did so well with all the things they needed to do to her, but she was so tired. She finally gave up on being nice and just cried and cried. We made it to our room around 4:30am and by 5:00am I was holding my baby girl watching her sleep and listening to the monitors beep in the background. It all seemed to happen too quickly and then time just slowed at that point. George and I began to process where we were and what was happening. The doctors told us she had tested positive for RSV and was just to little to fight it off. She would be ok, but just needed some help to get through the worst of the virus.

At some point George headed home to relieve Angela and help get James to school so he could head back to the hospital to be with Anna and I. While he was gone, I asked for prayers from friends and family and thanked God that it was just a bad cold. I prayed in thanks for her healing and prayed for all the other mothers in the hospital that night. For all the little ones who had much worse than a cold. For the mothers who have to hold their babies down many times a day while the doctors do things that hurt them but will hopefully help heal them in the long run.

I thought back to how we had almost not brought her to the ED and now here we were in a hospital room. I hated to think what would have happened if he hadn’t taken her in. Still part of me wondered if we had done the right thing. After getting a couple hours of sleep, I woke up to the sun shining and happened to notice the picture above my bed. It was an alphabet print, of the letter “A,” for Anna, I thought. The big A was standing over the little A. I couldn’t help but smile and feel that my big and faithful God was standing, watching over me and my little “a” and I knew we were in the right place.

Everyone was so nice during our stay and answered all of my questions. We were only there for about a day and a half but I learned several tricks in our short stay. They had a music channel on the TV that played relaxing music and showed pictures of nature scenes 24/7. This was on for our entire stay. It was so nice to focus on this rather than the sounds of her monitors. We also used the wall suction as a white noise machine for Anna. This helped keep her asleep while nurses and techs were in and out. We learned that Anna was much more agreeable if the therapist did her breathing treatments first and then the awful suctioning.

The emotions of being an advocate for your child are intense. I watched every caretaker like a hawk when they were in the room with us. I made sure they knew who my baby was and what she needed before they gave any treatments. Of course I let them do their job, but I was doing mine too. My baby can’t tell me when it hurts, or that she couldn’t breathe, but I wanted to do the best I could by her while we were there. I believe that situations like these are the very definition of motherhood. Caring for our babies because they are unable to care for themselves. Loving someone so much that their pain becomes your pain. Doing everything in your power to make them better.

I’m thankful to everyone who cared for Anna while we were in the hospital and thankful to everyone who took care of James, George and I too. Thank you.

Overall it was a quick stay and we were so grateful to be able to go home. Our prayers are with the precious little ones who are still in the hospital. God please stand over their mothers and give them the strength to continue fighting for their children.