I Miss my Baby

Having family who lives in the same town you do is always a plus. OK, maybe not ALWAYS, but it certainly seems to have its benefits: built in baby-sitters, free meals, a peaceful night alone with the hubby, etc. And this week my parents and my in-laws have proved especially useful.
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As a parent of a now-immune suppressed child, I have learned the danger of germs. You sneezed? Please go wash your hand in bleach. You coughed? There’s a battery-acid rinse in store for you. Fever? Let’s not even go there.

And then I did. Sunday night while “Eastering” at my in-laws, I noticed that I felt a little warm. Out comes the trusty thermometer I carry everywhere and bam: 102.4. WHAT? Two things: I apparently didn’t learn the rule that Mommy’s don’t get sick; and two, 102.4? Really? I take my temperature again. The thermometer must have been wrong the first time because the next six times I take my temperature, the thermometer reads 102.9. NICE. I down half a bottle of Tylenol, and pray that it will go away. Meanwhile, what do I do with Anthony? He can’t be around me even though he’s been thoroughly exposed (hey, I didn’t feel THAT bad when we were wrestling on the floor ten minutes ago!). My mother-in-law has a panic attack (literally) thinking Anthony is going to get whatever rare disease I must have and will have to have another liver transplant.

Hey, what about the woman who has the fever? No sympathy for her? Hmph. I’m shipped home in the care of my husband who is shooting me dirty looks for getting a fever in the first place.

Monday I stay home from work and sleep all day. Tuesday I’m no better so I head to the doctor. I have....drum roll please...the FLU. Shit. I’ve NEVER had the flu. Never. And I got the flu shot in the fall. Of course, I know I got a different strain of the flu than what I got in that shot. I’m still pissed.

Hubby comes home from work Tuesday night burning up with fever. He tops out at 103.3. I dose him up with Tylenol and the script my doctor gave me. We sleep and sleep and sleep.

I have now been fever free for twenty-four hours and will go back to work tomorrow. Hubby has been fever free all day. Yahoo.

Every time I call to check on Anthony, I hear “He’s fine. He’s reading a book with Grandpa/Paw Paw” (depending on whose house he’s at). So they put the phone to his ear and I say, “Hi baby, it’s Mama!” and back through the phone comes, “Mama?” and then the sobbing commences. On both sides of the phone. He doesn’t SEEM to be fine, he’s crying for his Mama! Oh, my heart is breaking. And all I can think about is, “I want my baby!” Not, “Thank God we have family who can take him so he won’t get sick.”

I miss Anthony. I miss the little snuggly hug he gives me before bed each night. I miss the big grin he gives me when I go to get him out of his crib in the morning. I miss those fat little legs running around the house while I chase him. I want my baby back!