In my child’s brief life, she’s suffered exactly one fever. Until Saturday that is. Color me freaked.
I feel lucky that in her 21 months on this earth, we’ve only had to deal with two fevers total but that doesn’t make it easy. I doubt my child being sick will ever be easy. There is an exceptional amount of inexperience that I, along with my husband, am overcoming.
As a woman who never did any babysitting as a teenager and held a baby for the first time when I was just turning thirty, having a child has been more than an adventure. The late night feedings were surprisingly easy. The dirty diapers, no sweat. I think mothers lose their sense of smell during some moments. The crying, annoying the first few months. Let’s face it. The crying is a pain only because you haven’t learned each meaning to each cry and don’t know what to do to fix it. After that, it’s no big deal.
But the fever. The sickness. Or the general not feeling good. Major deal.
We don’t get sick in my house. Not often except for the occasional cold. Maybe once a year for anything more serious at the most.
Saturday, when the fever began, we naturally panicked. We took the toddler to Urgent Care. Her previous fever was the result in the ear infection. We just figured we’d nip it in the bud. Off we went. The nurses and doctor were great. They were kind and googley eyed over my little angel.
And all she had was a fever. No ear infection. No throat issues. Nada.
An hour later, the fever was gone and she was back to her little joyful self.
Chalk it up to a new lesson learned.