So, I re-read the last post. It made no sense to me. Which is why it makes perfect sense.
I was tired, sleep deprived, worried and mad.
My daughter was sick, again, and I felt helpless. In the last 60 days, she has had 2 major surgeries, on 4 different medications at once, and countless of follow up appointments. Then she was diagnosed with strep and bronchitis. This aggravated her asthma so we had to use her rescue inhaler. Her fever kept spiking up to 104º and all she did was sleep. She lost weight. I checked on her on and off all night as we sept on the couch.
Then I got mad.
I checked on her while she had to still go to her dad’s, just to find out that she wasn’t staying with him, she was staying at her parents. Okay, so mad wasn’t it. I was livid that I went off on him and his mom. Our job as a parent is to be there for the good days and bad, sick days and fun days and the dreaded school physicals. The words that came out of my mouth, “I can’t legally take care of her and he just passed her to someone else.” I’m her mom. I can’t begin to count the nights where I would check on her every couple of hours, the very long nights of shampooing my carpets, bleaching my bathroom, 2 am showers and laundry started at hours I forgot existed, all in hopes that next time she could hold in her puke until she made it to the bathroom.
And he and his fiancée let someone else take care of her and it wasn’t me.
Don’t worry, no pity parties here. Just a stalker-ish mom who called every couple of hours, who demanded picture texts of her temperature so I could keep track, and FaceTime so she could tell me how she felt.
Guess who came home early 🙂
Yup. She use to come home early when she was a toddler. She would get pneumonia twice a year, which involved nebulizer treatments every 4 hours. Day and night.
I do this, by myself. Yes, there has been tears shed. Yes, I have gotten angry. And yes, I was jealous that he slept peacefully, while I was cleaning a puke covered girl.
But, I shake my head, and remember that she looks for me when she’s sick. She’ll call me, or she’ll be curled up on my lap asking me not to move.
Yup me. The super cool wo-mom who didn’t sleep; who rocked a messy bun and my aviator glassed with my coffee, lots and lots of coffee.
So know that I’ve been there and so have a lot of mom’s and dad’s, as you are up at 3 am picking up after a sick child. You’re not alone. We somehow just know when another single parent had a rough night and will probably have another one.
Been there, done that and will probably do it again before she leaves for college.