I had to take little Solomon to the doctor today. (By the way, Solomon is not his real name – there has been some confusion with this lately. I am considering calling them by their God-given names but have not yet arrived at a decision on that one. Until then we’ll keep calling him Solomon…)
He’s the third baby.
In four years.
Now this doesn’t mean that we don’t love him any less because I love the pants off of that child. Even when he isn’t wearing pants which for some reason, is often because he really likes his brother’s “Potty Power” DVD and enjoys stripping his drawers off to sit on the potty any chance he gets. Which is why I think he just might be potty-trained before his non-interested-in-the-potty older brother…
The little guy just has the unfortunate (or fortunate – depending on how you look at it) luck of being the last one to arrive in a line of babies born too close together in too short of a time frame.
I’m so sorry, Solomon. Daddy and I proved to not be so good in the “family planning” department. Luckily, we realize that you were planned to be here with us all along and I love everything about you. I wouldn’t change your birth order or the spacing even if given the choice because I know this is how God wanted our family to be.
But it doesn’t mean that I can’t discuss how achingly tired I often am or admit that there are days I just want to go fetal in the corner.
Susannah was my first born child. Back then, way back in the days of yore, I was the most conscientious mama on the block. I knew how many ounces of formula she drank. I could tell you the exact hours and minutes she slept. I knew every vaccination she received at each well-baby visit to the doctor. I kept each little sheet that told me the size of her head’s circumference, length and weight.
I knew Solomon wasn’t feeling well. I had been gone at the Hearts at Home Conference and when I returned on Saturday night, one look into his puffy, red eyes told me he was just going along with the party because he did not feel well at all.
By the time Monday rolled around, I was ready to take him to the doctor to get him rolling on something a little stronger than the Zyrtec I had been pumping him with since Saturday night.
Since he is my third child, I understand the rule that no one wants to see your cold-suffering child in the doctor’s office unless he or she has been afflicted for longer than two weeks. I get that. But something was not right. My mommy radar was going off.
I called and made an appointment for that afternoon then hem-hawed around because I thought maybe I was being overdramatic.
Sure, his deep cough sounded like he had been smoking since before his conception. Yes, his nose was running faster than the kitchen sink. His eyes were scarlet. He was having a hard time breathing due to the congestion. But still I thought I could possibly be overreacting.
Then he vomited all over the kitchen floor and again, I just knew. Something was just not right.
Sweet JJ came home and went to bed because as luck would have it, he too was feeling ill. I arranged for the others to go play at the neighbors and I packed my sleepy little guy into the car to visit the pediatrician.
Our regular doctor, Dr. Anna, only works two days a week so we saw a new doctor. I’m pretty sure she thinks she might as well have been talking to Solomon’s fifth cousin thrice removed. Here’s our conversation:
Me: Solomon has had this horrible sinus thing going on – drippy nose, red eyes, non-stop cough. He’ll have it for a while, it will clear up for a few days, then it’ll start again. He had a temp last night of 101.
Doc: Has he had diarrhea?
Me: Hmmm… I don’t really know. I have two boys in diapers and all of their stuff just runs together. Not literally, of course…(at this points she is formulating her hypothesis that I could actually be a loon) I just can’t remember whose poo is whose.
Doc: Has he been having wet diapers?
Me: Umm… I think so. I haven’t really noticed.
Doc: Has he been pulling at his ears?
Me: I don’t think so but I’m not really sure. He has been fussy but I figured it was because of his cold.
At this point the questions stopped because she probably figured she already knew the answers. I wouldn’t know any of the information she needed to know. There was no need to waste anymore precious pediatrician time.
Doc: Let me take a look inside his throat and ears.
Doc fumbles for her instruments. Looks in his throat. Looks in his ears. Makes a clucking sound.
Doc: He has an ear infection in his left ear.
He probably has been pulling at his ears. Heck, he’s probably had diarrhea and hasn’t been wetting, too.
How on earth would I have ever noticed? He’s the third baby for crying out loud!