Deep suctioning - no thanks

Dear Zoe B,

Tonight I had to take you to the children's hospital urgent care because you just didn't seem to be getting better. You were still running a fever and your cough wasn't improving. So, we took off to the urgent care and to be honest, I thought they'd tell me to just ride this virus out. Not so!

They did a whole host of things that were very unpleasant for you and, by extension, me. Initially we went by ourselves and as soon as I heard "deep suctioning" I called your Dad and told him to come. You freak out when I try to suction your nose with the bulb syringe so I knew this would be horrific. And, of course, it was. They had to hold you down and stick a tube up your nose and down your throat, and just typing this out and thinking of it makes me tear up. I'm so glad your dad was there because I couldn't watch - I had to stand in the corner, plug my ears and deep breathe. He was with you and held your hands.

That was first and you never quite recovered from it - you cried off an on for a good hour...and then started back up whenever anyone came in the room. Next up: breathing treatments. More crying. Medicine. More crying. Checking your oxygen level. More crying. Your dad and I were talking about what it must be like for babies in situations like these. We agreed on alien abduction. A bunch of people you've never seen before, can't understand what they're saying, holding your arms down, sticking things in your face. This did little to console me.

But - the good news is that you're going to get better now. You've been sick for over a week and you should start to feel better in the next couple days. I can't wait. I hate this for you. This is the thing about loving you the way that I do...an illness for you is ten thousand times worse than one for me. Your Grandpa David said to me on the phone tonight, "sometimes being a parent just rips your heart out."

Couldn't have said it better myself.

I love you, sweet girl.

Love,
Mama