A Tantrum of Monstrous Proportions, and a Mommy with a Lot of Tenacity

That’s what it took to get my Cadester home from the hospital last night. His pediatrician had said that he probably wouldn’t be able to come home until Saturday, but by yesterday, he was so, so angry at being in the hospital. He wouldn’t stop crying (okay, let’s be honest: it was really more like screaming). He kept pointing to the door, crying, “Let’s go! Let’s go!” He wouldn’t be consoled with any of his toys or his bottle - nothing, absolutely nada we did could soothe him.

I took it as a good sign that he was so adamant about going home; it meant he was feeling well enough to be aware of his environment and know he wasn’t at home with his toys and in comfortable surroundings. So after hours and hours of my mom and Brandon and I juggling him and his screams, after we were all lullabied and nursery-rhymed out, after we all agreed that we could not survive another minute like this, I got online and looked up my pediatrician’s home phone number. Now, before you all start feeling horrifyingly embarrassed on my behalf, that I’d actually have the tenacity to call my son’s doctor from home, late at night, you all must realize that Dr Cramer is a good friend of our family’s; we lived in the same neighborhood for years. I went to high school with his kids, and quite frankly, he was devastated when he found out I was getting married to someone other than his son. He’s the kindest man in the world, and he told me that if I needed anything, I could call him, day or night. So after a few minutes of debating with myself, I decided to take him up on that offer and finally called his home. I told him that I knew, as a mother, what my son needed, and that I really thought he could do more healing and recuperating at this point at home. He had been breathing for a few hours on his own without oxygen,and I made sure to update Doc Cramer on all these positive points. He then talked to the nurse and told her we were discharging Cade, and she really didn’t believe him – I’m pretty sure no child has ever been released from the hospital at 11:30 at night! But we were able to go home, and Cade was so happy at last (and finally stopped screeching and driving us all batshit).

He’s still under the weather, but after this fatty week from hell, I can survive a sick weekend with my child – as long as we’re both at home, we can get through anything, no kidding.

So, yeah. Cheers for the worst week as a mother that I’ve ever endured finally being over. Cheers I survived it, but more importantly, cheers Cade survived it! I was able to get through the week by more or less taking care of myself (basically, you all should know that means that I actually ate. Yay for me for not restricting when conflict and such broke out. What a giant step for me. )