|Baby's First Christmas|
When my sweet gift was four months old, his screams went from "I'm an angry elf!" to "Ouch, that hurts!" Mamas(and some daddies) will know what I mean. Rather than his general angst with life, his screams were sounding panicked, high-pitched, and urgent. He began running a constant low-grade fever that everyone- doctors, friends, family- attributed to early teething. After a week, the fever got higher and his screaming was soon joined by projectile vomiting. One particular sleepless night I had just finished nursing my little guy after changing his clothes and diaper from a vomiting fit at 3am when he began to scream again. Within minutes, the vomiting started again- all over himself, me, and the bed. I woke my husband up on his only night off of the week and told him I was taking the baby to the emergency room. And I went. Five hours, many tests, vials of blood, a catheter for urine collection, and pokingand prodding later, we left with a diagnosis of a urinary tract infection so severe they worried about his kidneys, and dehydration due to vomiting from the extreme pain. My mommy heart broke. My tiny baby had had this infection for who-knows-how-long and the pain was so severe his stomach was churning and rejecting his meals. He was started on oral antibiotics, had ultrasounds and still more catheters and urology exams, and a month later he was written a clean bill of health. And still he screamed. But of course! He was, after all, just being a boy.