A few weeks ago Nic and I were watching Modern Family. It was the episode where Phil takes his daughter Hailey to some activity at the college she'll be attending in the fall. If you've seen the show you know that Phil makes some lovingly dopey mistakes that embarrass Hailey and cause a fight. They made up after Phil explained to Hailey that her going to college was going to be really hard on him; he said that it seemed like it was just yesterday when he pinched her chubby little thigh trying to get her in the car seat to take her home from the hospital.
You guys. It was just yesterday when Nic was loading our squirmy, perfect, 8-pound 10-ounce baby girl into her car seat to take her home.
Nic looked over to catch me crying as we finished watching the show. Now don't judge him because he really is the nicest guy I know, but when he saw what was going down he immediately asked me, "What is wrong with you?"
You know what was wrong with me? Norah is going to be going to college, like, tomorrow. She's almost a year and a half and already for heaven's sake! Now, you all will have to remind me of this conversation when she's a teenager, but at that moment I could not stand the fact that she's going to leave us someday. It makes my heart ache in this glorious, what-would-I-ever-do-without-you, how-did-we-get-so-lucky-to-have-you sort of way.
. . .
Wednesday night I could hear her frantic in her crib. Thinking she had just lost her binkie, I opened the door to her room and hit a wall of stench. You know the smell. That warm, sticky, sour aroma of a baby who has just thrown up a day's worth of food. The. Worst. That led to her getting into our bed, dad moving to the loveseat, and a night full of pajama and sheet changes.
But it didn't stop. She couldn't keep anything down. We went to the doctor. The Zofran they gave us wasn't helping the nausea. She was dehydrated. We ended up at Timpanogos hospital to get her IV fluids.
I always make Nic come to Norah's doctor appointments so he is the one who holds her down for her shots. While we were at the hospital on Friday, he had to hold her down as nurse after nurse tried to get an IV in one of her tiny little veins that kept collapsing. It took 9 tries. Every time a needle went into a vein, it would blow out so the nurses couldn't start the IV. Finally, they got an IV started in her foot; Nic wanted to hug that nurse.
Norah was beside herself. She was sick, exhausted, dehydrated, and scared. Talk about heartbreaking.
We got a bag of fluid in my baby and they wanted to test her blood to make sure her whatever levels were back to normal. They stuck her heel but couldn't get enough blood. They poked another vein and still couldn't get enough blood to run the test. They wanted to give her a break and try again.
I understand that we had to get an IV started for the fluids and that we had to keep trying even after vein after vein collapsed. But the thought of sticking her with another needle to get some blood for a test was just too much. I told Nic that she was done. We told the nurse and she talked to the doctor. The doctor respected my motherly intuition and discharged us without another poke. Exhausted, we took little Norah home so she could sleep in her own crib without someone waking her up every hour.
This was the first time as parents that we've had to deal with a truly sick baby. It nearly broke my heart.
. . .
No one ever warned me about this--but apparently I'm in for a life full of heartbreak. That girl can make my heart ache by being such an awesome weirdo; and then she can break it because something isn't right in her tummy. That range of emotion is like nothing I've ever been a part of, and in the end it's kind of magical. Am I right?
Thankfully, Norah is back to her usual, adorable self. I never got sick (knock on wood), but Nic wasn't so lucky. I think it may have been karma getting back at him on my behalf. Because do you want to know what genius thing he said when I was falling apart over Modern Family? He reminded me that I'm also going to be 30 soon.