Thursday, February 16, 2006

Not your typical Valentine

He was hot and bothered all night and very little sleep was had. Sadly, I'm not talking about Bob, my poor little Sam has been fighting his first real illness this week. Since Monday night he's had a high fever, vomiting and other unsightly symptoms. We went to the doctor today and after several tests, a chest x-ray and A LOT of crying, my dude comes home with a diagnosis of mild bronchitis and a still-to-be-determined-by-lab-results infection. I had to actually fill a prescription for an antibiotic for him which was a first for me in my adult life. After a tsp and a half of what smelled remarkably like Strawberry Quik, he went to bed with plenty of overtired crying. Rough day.

As a parent you experience these moments when hurting your child temporarily is for his benefit in the long run. While he had blood drawn he screamed, the phlebotomist got nervous and the whole process ended up requiring two men and more sticks than should have been. I whisper to him, "trust your Mama" in an effort to console him. I wonder if he understands those words and if so, what he must think about me, his supposed protector, being the one to hold him down while people hurt him. Why should he trust me?

It breaks my heart to think how forsaken he must feel, that his own Mama, would let these things happen. He's aware enough to feel pain, but not enough to understand it's only temporary and in the long run he'll get better faster if we do the blood draw/urine specimen/throat culture. I almost think this period before real comprehension will be the hardest because he can't understand the whys of these tests. That it's pain with a purpose. All he knows is those people in scrubs ALWAYS hurt him and his big sad eyes and genuine crying aren't enough to make Mama whisk him away to the safety of his stroller.

Mercifully, I tell myself he won't remember this experience but I can't help but think subconsciously he'll trust me a little bit less than he did previously. He'll keep with him a feeling in the very deepest part of his gut that for the most part Mama is there when he needs her but sometimes she fails to keep the hurt away. I go to bed tonight with a heavy heart.
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