RSV can kiss my @SS!

So if it felt like this mama dropped off the face of the Earth, well, I kind of  did. It had been a rough weekend. First on Friday, my husband swiped our computer and took it to work with him. The result = no blog fun! Then the weekend is reserved for family and I, so no more blog fun. Then later on during the weekend and Monday and Tuesday were long, grueling, days and nights.....
What started off as some simple congestion, a little fussiness, severe stinky gassiness for El Bambino took a turn on a high speed roller coaster that this mom can only describe as dancing with the devil down below.
Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were all rough evenings. The kiddo was very irritable and let this mama know it. So as usual, he was rocked, shhhhhhhhed, coddled, talked to, etc. just to get him to turn down the decibels of his ear piercing wails. It worked intermittently and he would give us a break and eventually gave into slumber on mama's milk jugs. Yup, he slept sitting up on my chest for a bit. Then he was wide-awake again and ended up sleeping on his belly across my chest on top of the Boppy Pillow. Boy, was that a mistake. He enjoyed it, but I got the short end of the stick with his comfortable position. The chunker passed gas casually throughout the night into the wee hours of the morning. I felt the need for a gas-mask just to contain breathing in that rancid odor. However, as stinky-cheese like that it was, he was my offspring, so I suffered on.
Then Monday morning rolled around, and I was off to the pediatrician. I was hoping for some kind of illness or virus that could be cured or explained. Instead what I got was, he's got a virus that just needs to run it's course. $65.00 and two hours later,  we went home and sat all day staring at each other through tears (both of ours) and boogers (his). It was a rough one. Picking up the toddler later that evening was also a time of frustration. As much as I wanted to play with him, I needed to soothe the El Poker Stinky Bambino so that he could get well soon. So the toddler did what the infant had done all day long. He threw a fit to end all fits. The fireworks of tears shed across the house as he threw himself on the floor screaming bloody murder. My ears were ringing and I was in dire need of a shower, which never came. When the husband made it home from work, I choose to have some vino instead of a shower, because after my day, I deserved a whole bottle. No kids were harmed and they all survived to live another day.
Fast forward now to Monday evening. All was well in the household, dinner had come and gone, and El Stinky Poker Bambino had just awoken from a long afternoon nap.  He happily joined his loving brother for a bath time session. We made it through bath time unscathed and decided to settle on the couch with El Stinker Poker Bambino, some vino, and a movie. It was apparent after a fourth of a glass of vino that the child was not into the movie. Maybe it was the awkward English accents, the subtitles, the setting, who knows, no one but he knew and he just wasn't cooperating. So, off to the bedroom we stormed to get him in the mood for a peaceful slumber and his drift into Sleepyland. Little did I know, that he was about to be a wild tornado causing havoc on one's ears for the next  eight or so hours. He was wide awake and screaming a high-pitched scream that could shatter glass as we entered the peaceful sanctuary of our bedroom. No amount of bopping, shhhhhing, rocking, coddling, etc was going to get this kiddo back on track. He was a derailed train heading for mama's demise. Eventually he gave in for a few minutes and woke up again like a meteor heading straight for my brain. The demon was arising and he wasn't settling for just a bit of crying and screaming. Oh no, he was screaming continuously, he was no longer latching to eat, would not take a bottle, and could not control himself. By 3:00 AM, I'd officially been ready to throw in the towel, wave the white flag, surrender as a looser.....the husband was awoken. My tears were flowing like a river as I was so upset trying to dance with this devil. Nothing worked to calm him and I was the one who now needed calming. I could not take it anymore, I needed peace and quiet for ten minutes and that's exactly what I expected to get as I handed the child off like a touchdown pass to a wide receiver. Touchdown, mama was headed for the living room to catch my breath and get some relief. It did not come though, as I could hear the child wailing across the household. There was nowhere to run to get relief so I lowered my head and returned in a panic state back to the room. I begged my husband to pull something out of a hat.....anything.....a white kitten, a turtle dove, a puppy, some sh#% needed to be done to get baby to bed. Eventually-like an hour later.....the baby whisperer (AKA my husband) had the kid calmed down enough that he gave into DJ Sleep for another 2 hours. However, when he awoke again with the husband's alarm, I knew that I was in for it. In fact, I even offered to trade the husband's job (which I truly have no idea how to do) for a golden day off of work where he would watch our demon-spawn. For obvious reasons, he declined, and took our toddler to daycare and I was left in a state of  h e - double hockey sticks. Now the baby had what I liked to refer to as labor breathing.....when a mama has a natural birth, they go to Lamaze classes and learn to breathe through contractions. It seemed as though he was making those Lamaze sounding breaths, except he could barely get them to get air into his itty bitty lungs. They were involuntarily unlike the ones a mama produces to eliminate her pain. There was definitely something wrong. I started to wonder if all my bopping caused the baby to develop Shaken Baby Syndrome. Had I hurt my own child? Well the river of tears now became an ocean as I was scared this was somehow a fault of my own. This mama bear was taking her cub back to the pediatrician for answers. So I bundled up the screaming child (who no longer had much of a voice) and off we went to the pediatrician for the second day in a row. We sat for no more than 15 minutes and were welcomed with somber looks and pity stares of all in the office. Little did they know, the kid had just fallen asleep, and they had seen nothing of the show he had previously put on. The office assistant took my $65.00 again with a sad look in her eyes as she knew that I had just coughed up the same amount the morning previous. I cautiously joked that it was for the funding to buy me bedroom furniture so I could sleep over as often as I come in there. Then, my favorite nurse, ushered us back. We went through the symptoms, weighing the porker again, measuring him, and were placed into a tiny room decorated with fish. The pediatrician came in a short time later, stuck a swab up the kid's nose, and soon we were being diagnosed with RSV. This was Respiratory Syncital Virus. It was no joke for infants as it causes an infection in the lungs and the breathing passages. This makes them appear to have a common virus to the untrained eye, but when you put them through an x-ray you can see how inflamed their lungs truly are. It can be extremely harmful if left untreated as it can lead to dehydration and even worse pneumonia and death. The pediatrician wasn't taking any chances and sent us to the hospital to be admitted for 24-48 hours-it turned into just that three days and two nights in a tiny room. Just the porker and I, as well as his IV that was attached to his right foot, his oxygen sensor to his left, and a butt revealing hospital gown.


Breathing Treatments are tiring

Mama's little trooper

As we arrived, we were taken in a circle to get to our room. This was precautionary as the volunteer was avoiding the labor and delivery section of the hospital. We didn't want to share this illness with newborns. Eventually we made it to room 280 on the pediatric floor.  By this time, my head was pounding from lack of food and I was exhausted beyond belief. There was no time to eat as we were overwhelmed with nurses and respiratory therapists galore. The fun was just beginning. We were given the IV, the oxygen sensor was attached, a breathing treatment administered, vitals taken, and lunch was delivered sometime in between this all. My heart was aching, my head pounding, and my legs shaking, but somehow we made it through the day. Constant interruptions to our peaceful time together were made as the IV would beep like a car horn or a nurse would need a vital, etc. The time dragged on through the night as well as all the normal hospital visitors who were here to heal my stinky boy. They came and went with a smile, were talked too and cooed at by my little dude, and really sent the gray clouds away. Soon the worst was over as the bambino was now eating again. At first it was from the bottle and then eventually he could latch as well. It seems the storm was slowly making its way off our coasts and we were headed for sunshine and birds tweeting. Although, he showed significant improvements that first night and into the next day, the pediatrician wanted us to stay for another night to continue his breathing treatments and IV fluids. Hastily, we agreed and luckily were visited by a few friends later on that day. They were sweet enough to bring this mama some new socks as I'd been wearing the ones I came in with for two days now....ick......we were making our way to 100% oxygen levels and smooth sailing. Well it was smooth except for the often spit ups that were filled with pleghm. Congestion and phlegm do funny things to those with RSV.

Indeed we were eventually released and made it home. Baby napped which allowed this mama to take a shower for the first time in three days-gross, I know, but I was stuck to my infant's side and not leaving him for more than two minutes to use a restroom. As I sit here now writing this, I can tell you, that I'm glad I trusted my gut. I'm relieved that my mama radar was ringing enough to take my child back to the pediatrician two days in a row. I'm scared almost to wonder had I not been so persistent, could this illness have progressed to something worse than the phlegmy, gooey, poopy diapers that I've been changing all morning?