Day Twenty-one: A picture of something you wish you could forget...
A perplexing idea. Why would you photograph something you don't want to remember? Of course, I'm sure people have the occasional mug shot, but I find myself without one. There is one memory in my life where I was completely scared to death and I requested no pictures be taken - the mental image I have is more than enough.
When CJ was two days old we were sent home from the hospital. By that evening, he wouldn't wake up. I couldn't rouse him at all and his pulse was weak. I was terrified and so was his grandmother. We took him to the ER and their response was to flick him in the foot. This did make him cry, but it did not solve the problem long term. They sent me home with Pedialite and formula. I was a nervous wreck. I stared at him all night long watching his chest rise and fall just to be sure he was breathing.
The next day we returned to the doctor and he was immediately admitted after seeing a pediatrician (the ER didn't feel his symptoms warranted bothering the on call pediatrician doc - yes...I am still angry).
It took them two hours to find a view in his leg to administer IV fluids and a round of antibiotics. Jerry was not home from Iraq during this time and I found myself truly afraid for the first time in my life. We stayed in the NICU for four days and as it turns out, he was extremely dehydrated and had not passed the meconium babies are supposed to pass when they were born. Two details his docs overlooked when they released a brand new mother and baby to go home.
CJ is fine now and I still make sure he gets plenty of fluids. The entire first year of his life I was a complete basket case about his feeding, but his recovery was strong and so is he.
I never want to see a picture of my son covered in tubes and wires, so for today - there are no photos allowed.