Losing my mind

I've been waiting, most exhaustedly for this weekend because it heralds the beginning of a month long break for Packrat and myself. We've been told by various people that we look like crap and I tend to agree with them. Well, we feel like crap.

But our dreams of sleeping in and doing fun things with the kids were thwarted last evening when I felt Evan's head and it was unusually hot. And his eyes were bright and lips red like he'd gotten into my make up and eaten some of my cherry lip balm or something. So we took him to bed with us and that was the beginning of the night that never ended. Despite the panadol, that the boy loves for its thick, cold sweetness, the fever would not break. Through the night, he alternated from being wide awake and giggling and wanting to play to being semi conscious and moaning and fussing. His body must have hurt because when I moved him, even so slightly to make space for myself on the bed we were all sharing, he would cry.

By 5 this morning, I was getting slightly hysterical because not only did the fever not break through the night after 2 doses of the pink stuff, it was heading headlong towards the 39 degree mark. By 7, I'd decided we were taking him to the first available doctor we could find. By 7.15, I'd decided I wasn't waiting till 10 am when my paediatrician would start seeing patients so, I marched Packrat into the shower so that he could take us to the paeds Emergency. There, we were isolated till we were seen, to prevent anyone else from catching HFMD or SARS or whatever other frightening acronymn there was out there. The wait wasn't all that bad although Evan didn't like being carried by the nurse, popped onto the gurney, have this mouth and throat checked or a bag stuck between his legs. To rule out UTI, my son got stripped of his diapers and a bag with double sided tape was stuck round his crotch, to catch whatever pee would dribble out of him. It is an extremely challenging task trying to keep an 11 month old from trying to yank it off just because it was there and dangling, asking to be yanked off. The minute we collected 20 ml of pee, I yanked the thing off and with the other hand, beeped the nurse to take it away before he had the chance to try and take it away from me and spill pee all over the bed and have us repeat the entire procedure again.

The diagnosis, viral fever. A higher dosage of panadol and lots of fluids.

We've spent the whole day trying to manage his temperature. It seems to only subside an hour or 2 after he takes the panadol and doesn't last all that long. Even though I seemed to feel totally rational and calm while tending to his needs, I was also extremely aware of the neurotic, wild eyed mother that was growing and ready to burst out forth and consume me.

I'd told Packrat in the car on the way home that I could never get used to this. This being the kids falling ill and me being cool cucumber Jo about it. I was terrified that it would get worse, I was terrified that Jordan would get it from him and of course, deep down inside, I was terrified that I might lose him. What my friend in Sydney said, when her son got sick recently, came to mind- that she would have willingly taken what he was feeling and borne it herself than to watch him go through it. I would have and I would have taken a second load if it guaranteed that Baby J would be spared.

To make matters worse, I have to leave them on Wednesday and be away for 10 days. These are plans that cannot be changed but once again, neurotic and occasionally superstitious me is wondering if it is a sign that this trip is a bad idea. I've been assured that he should be on the mend by then but I still feel a mixture of guilt, paranoia, anxiety and pain every time I think about being away from the both of them during this time.

At the same time, a somewhat surreal revelation that occurs to me while all these inner histrionics are going on is that mothers have an amazing ability to worry about everything and worrying themselves silly doesn't even begin to cover it. I've been told that one of my strengths is that I have a remarkably creative imagination. The problem is that it is my downfall here. With my extremely creative imagination, I can conjure up the scariest of scenarios to scare myself silly.

Packrat has been very zen and rock like for me. When I remarked somewhat accusingly that he was so zen while I was fluttering around, he said that he had to be zen because I was driving myself to the edge of insanity all by myself and didn't need him to add to it. On top of that, the numerous people who see it as my obligation and fully expect me to cancel the trip on account of Evan being ill and judge me for having not yet cancelled my trip.

It's almost as if my inner demons are not enough for me to contend with, I have to contend with other people making judgement on my decisions when I know these are the decisions I'm making to the best of my ability and situation rather than me not prioritising my children. This gives rise to more anxiety, more anger, more emotional outbursts that are unnecessary. Packrat's solution is for me to ignore these people and to NOT talk to them but I'm far too polite to do it and end up making myself more upset.

This incessant need of mine to do what is right by EVERYONE is what will be the death of me. I cannot please or serve so many masters and everyone wants me to live by their expectations, I forget my own needs and forget sometimes that all I should do is to make decisions that will benefit my family and myself. For now, barring the fact that Evan gets worse or Jordan falls sick, it is to leave them in the capable hands of the help and their grandparents because we do look and feel like crap and surviving on 2-4 hours of sleep per night for the last couple of weeks will be the death of me if the judgey friends that I have aren't.

So, I will just pray that Evan gets better and that Baby J withstands the bugs flying around and that they will not forget us while we are gone and selfishly, for me, forget how to breastfeed but that's another post for another time when I'm not so angsty.

Technorati Tags: babies, viral fevers