Sad sad sad sad sad mama.


Snort playing in a hospital bed:

Wait, you say, why is he in a hospital bed? And why was his sister left home alone with me, to have free reign on all snacks and go to bed an hour late because she wouldn’t settle?

Those of you who have clicked ‘like’ on my facebook page will already know these answers, as will those of you who have been subjected to my million tweets tonight.

Basically, I went into the bedroom to lie down when the babies were napping today. I awoke to godawful screaming. I went into the lounge. Snort was sat on TMD’s lap, refusing to eat solids, refusing milk, etc.

Just this weird scream. Like a loud scream on the exhale, and then a laboured intake of breath. I took him and he calmed slightly, but his breathing was atrocious. It sounded like he needed a breathing treatment/inhaler – instantly. His tummy was really retracting in hard when he was trying to breathe, he was working so hard.

I told TMD he needed a breathing treatment (ah, I spent my childhood having breathing treatments and have inhalers, dontcha know) NOW and she needed to take him to the hospital.

If I’m perfectly honest, I’m kind of mad that she was just sitting calmly and it didn’t occur to her he needed to go into the hospital.

Anyway, I went dead calm and packed snacks, etc etc while holding him. His screaming continued. The worst part was the look of sheer panic on his face. It was his ‘help me, mama’ face. The face he uses when he is scared and he knows he needs help. Except I couldn’t help.

I kissed him and handed him to TMD.

They made him wait for over three hours to see a doctor. And then even once that happened and they decided he needed treatment, he was made to wait another hour or so. This is all still going on, so details are sketchy.

TMD said the doctors were all arguing with each other over whether he fit ‘protocol’ and calling other doctors, before it was agreed to give him an inhaler. I tell you, I don’t have a medical degree but I knew that poor baby needed an inhaler at 3 this afternoon, folks. Nor am I in the practice of making babies who can’t breathe properly wait hours while they dick around.

At this point, all I know is that the inhaler has helped. (We received a copy of the letter the specialist pediatrician sent to our family doctor yesterday, in which she says she heard ‘slight asthma’ when listening to his chest. News to us.)

I don’t know if this little breathing problem tonight is bronchiolitis, asthma, or another allergic reaction. I tend to have major breathing problems after having upper respiratory sicknesses, so wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what it was for him.

It’s hard to have a happy, mostly healthy chappy in the hospital and away from me, especially as there was no warning. I don’t know if they are coming home tonight. Sil has offered to babysit Coco if I want to go into hospital, but I think that would be upsetting for Coco if she woke up. Regardless, we may need them to bring milk and pjs to the hospital for Snort if he has to stay in. 😦

I wanted to write today about the cute thing that happened at 3:30 am this morning, not about how sad I am to have my baby away from me and not be able to hold him.


This morning Snort somehow snuck quietly off the couch and came into my room. I think he was there for a little while before I noticed, as I could hear him chatting in my dreams. That’s before I realised he was chatting to my back. I think I even felt a little hand poking me.

I blearily turned over to see his face BEAMING up at me. He looked so ecstatic to see me, and so proud of himself. I assumed TMD had let him come wake me up.

I pulled him into bed and we snuggled and chatted. He was so freaking happy. Then I thought to look at my phone to see what time it was. 3:57 am. That explains why he looked so proud of himself – he’d clearly been a stealth ninja.

FUCK. TMD just called. They are transferring Snort to another hospital by ambulance. The inhaler hasn’t helped enough, he needs full blown treatment.

Inhaler every twenty minutes for an hour, and then the slowly reduce dosage. When he is weaned to one inhaler every four hours he can come home…where we continue with inhalers for a few days.

TMD called to say only one parent can stay in, and she left it up to me. I want it to be me, but I know that sharing a hospital bed with Snort for a night – or rather, sitting in a chair while he is doped up to the gills – would kill my SPD.


He was crying in the background when I was talking to her.



6 Responses to “Sad sad sad sad sad mama.”

  1. nic @mybottlesup Says:

    *hugs* and healing to you all.

  2. Matthew Says:

    I’ve been following Snort’s story. It must be so frustrating not to be there. Keeping you all in my thoughts.

  3. Nina Says:

    Poor little man! Poor Mommies!! This just sucks all around. I’d be pissed as well that they made him wait. Hopefully they can get this under control so you can treat him from home instead of waiting for them to get their crap together at the hospital. ((hugs)) Hang in there, Mommas!!

  4. Slee Says:

    poor little guy, love and light your way. lots of it.

  5. Mel Says:

    I hope he recovers soon. Poor babe! It makes me sad when hospitals have rules about who can and cannot stay. Families should have the choice to stay together, if they feel that is what is best.


  6. mamacrow Says:

    oh gosh 😦 hugs hugs hugs to you all, keeping everything crossed and hope they’re home soon xxx

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