There might be a few dads out there that can relate, but it’s something about a momma’s sixth sense that kicks in on these nights.
Ever since our Gracie had her febrile seizure back in 2016, and I ended up having to perform CPR on her, we have never taken fevers lightly. So, this evening we ended up in urgent care because — HELLO — she had a fever that was spiking and NOTHING would bring it down.
When we left the house her fever was at 102.6° and by the time we got into our urgent care room her fever was at 102.4° — her fever being the only real indicator that something was clearly wrong.
See, the only real first sign our girl is sick is when she gets super mommy clingy. I’m talking, “Mommy hold me,” for a solid 12 hours and then a fever will usually present itself. It’s pretty much been this way since her birth. However, going to the doctor because your child says, “Mommy hold me,” doesn’t really make a great case for him to work with.
Since she goes and goes all the time she doesn’t know how to pace herself when she’s not feeling well, her energy is the last thing to crash. Instead of resting and allowing her body to balance itself out, even after medicine is involved, we end up on this roller coaster of fevers breaking/spiking and energy/lethargic. So, when she plays the mommy card we know we’re hitting the “just make me better” mark.
Honestly, I have no idea what the post is all about. I’m having one of those nights after an evening at the doctor, getting prescriptions filled, being thrown up on (it’s true), bleh bleh bleh — it’s one of THOSE sleepless nights for this momma.
Maybe it’s from the seizure and CPR of 2016, but all I can do is watch her sleep. I kiss her sweet forehead every 10 minutes to check if the fever is spiking back up. I check her breathing to make sure she’s clearly surviving and I watch for her smile while she sleeps as affirmation of peaceful rest. Every few hours she is awoken by a cough, but I’m already comforting her as I put her back to sleep with a silent back scratch.
Yeah — I’m sleepy. However, it won’t be like this forever. One day she won’t have me taking care of her and she will have her own children to take care of, but in this moment — she’s my baby girl.
She’s worth a million sleepless nights because Gracie Elizabeth is my tiny human miracle.
Imperfectly Yours,
Katie