Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Reflection #17/40

Last week Jackson was sick. He was having trouble breathing in the middle of the night and Alice took him to the hospital at 3 AM. She hoped they would tell her that she had nothing to worry about, but they determined that he did have a problem and admitted him. They were in the hospital all day Monday and did not get home until 1 in the morning.

Everything turned out okay, but it made me think of all the times I have been scared about Jackson’s health, sta
rting before he was born.


Jackson was a big baby. Very, very big. He was also breach, meaning that not only could he barely fit inside his mother, but he was turned the wrong way. A traditional birth would be way too difficult so they scheduled Alice for a C-section.


Just before our family vacation, the doctor decided that Alice shouldn’t go. So I ended up driving through South Carolina with my parents, Cynthia, and Abby. While we were stopped for lunch, I got a call from Alice. She was panicked; she had gone to get an ultrasound, and the technician had warned her that she was at risk for pregnancy loss.


“Pregnancy loss” is the worst euphemism I have ever heard, in that it completely fails to make the thing it’s describing sound less terrible. Hearing this from Alice, in that Zaxby’s parking lot, was probably the most terrifying moment of my life.


We got back in the car, and continued driving, but my heart was racing and I could barely think straight. A few minutes later Alice called back. Alice had talked to her doctor, who had calmed her down, and said that the ultrasound technician should not have used that term, that things were not that dire, that Alice just needed to check in regularly so she could make sure everything was going smoothly.


That was reassuring, but my mood was pretty much ruined for the rest of the vacation. And, the day after we got back from vacation, when Jackson was born, I was excited, but I couldn’t stop worrying. The whole time we were in the hospital, I kept wondering, when is the other shoe going to drop?


It took me a long time to accept that, knock on wood, Jackson is healthy and happy and, as an added bonus, adorable. I am extremely grateful for that. Eventually my paranoia subsided. Now I still worry about him sometimes, like when he gets sick and has breathing problems, but generally I'm just glad to have him around.

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