I told my husband and my mom. They told me to wait until a doctor said it before I freaked out too much. I think in their gut they knew I was right but didn’t want to believe it at the time. Little did I know how soon I would get that doctor confirmation we all desired but dreaded at the same time.
That night he didn’t nurse much before going to bed. I laid him down around 9:30pm and as expected he woke up around 1:30am, March 1st. He wasn’t interested in nursing and I couldn’t calm his faint distress cries. He worked so hard to breath as I watched his stomach go up and down, gasping for every breath. By 3am I took him to the emergency room. We got right in and were immediately surrounded by five or so nurses. He was given oxygen and breathing treatments. They struggled to find a vein that was large enough to insert an IV line in. After sticking him five times they decided to drill into the bone marrow. Once fluid and medicine were administered he was given an X-ray. Pneumonia.
How could pneumonia manifest from three days after last being seen by the doctors? Why didn’t they tell me this everlasting congestion should be treated immediately? These answers wouldn’t change fate, but I needed to blame someone.
The ER doctor said that we would be better off going to Cape Fear, the local hospital, that has better pediatric care so we prepared to go in the ambulance. While being transported, I started to think about the seriousness of the situation. Once we arrived at Cape Fear I rushed to keep up with the paramedics as they hurried the stretcher down each hallway until we reached our destination. Once in the room breathing treatments, oxygen, fluids and medicine worked to relieve the distress my baby was in. He was exhausted as the night turned into morning, but as everything fell into place, he was finally able to rest.
