I always look forward to my husband’s holiday party with a combination of excitement and dread. It’s an odd mixture of emotions. I get excited to go shopping and pick out something I normally wouldn’t wear, but dread the potential price tag for something I’ll usually only wear once. I eagerly anticipate a meal with adult company and not having to cut little boys' food, or say “sit down and eat” even one time. Simultaneously, I fear that I’ll make myself look ridiculous in some way. Spill food, talk about mundane kid stuff too much, talk about funny kid stuff way too much.The opportunities to embarrass myself or be socially awkward are endless.
This year I thought I had done well. I acquired a dress right after Thanksgiving. It was on sale, which was a total bonus. Fortunately, the week before the party I thought I should try on the dress one more time. Unfortunately, I discovered upon doing so that I absolutely hated it and it must be returned ASAP. What was I thinking to have bought something so NOT my style? Maybe I was still in my too much Thanksgiving food stupor when I made the purchase, but it was clear that there was no way I was going to be wearing that dress.
In my usual procrastinating style, the day before the party I frantically searched for something to wear. I went over my criteria in my head. Not black, because I tend to be drawn to black, but wanted something more cheery and festive for this occasion. Something dressy, but not formal necessarily, I don't want to stand out. The dress for this event typically ranges from business attire to not quite black tie, with all sorts of in between. I needed something perfect that would make me feel good and maybe even forget about the 40 or so pounds I still need to lose. It should also be on sale! It was a tall order for something that was formerly a yard of fabric and a spool of thread to fill.
After several hours I found a dress that mostly met my requirements and I was once again excited for the Christmas party. That is, until the in the car on the way there. I began my annual Pre-Holiday Party Worry Fest. What if I was too dressed up? What if I wasn't dressed up enough? What on earth would I talk to people about? What was there to talk about other than the kids and potty training and never ending laundry? What if my eyes glazed over and their conversations about business or whatever else flew right over my head. I put this all to the back of my mind as we neared our destination.
Besides another small panic when we arrived (That's two women wearing pants suits! What if I'm the only one in a dress!?!) the party went fine. Turns out I was dressed just fine. There was good food, great conversation, and I got to enjoy a meal that I didn't have to prepare or clean up after. I don't think I made any major social faux pas and I only talked about the kids when asked. I didn't bring up potty training once. That shouldn't be an accomplishment, but I will confess that it is.
It was somewhere toward the middle of the evening that I realized I shouldn't fret over these things. Most of these people were a lot like me, despite the differences of business professionals versus the stay at home mom. We were all just normal people in a social situation. The angst I felt was based on my own insecurities and not in reality. Maybe next year I can skip the anxiety and just enjoy the party.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
My Wake Up Call
I have to confess I’ve always had hard time giving money to charities. Or, more accurately, deciding who in the world to give to. This time of year we are all barraged with phone calls, letters, and pleas for help. Most, from worthy causes and all of them tug at my heart. If funds were unlimited I’d take out my checkbook and start writing. Since they are not, for a lot of years I’ve taken the approach of not deciding and feeling guilty about it. I would struggle with the fact that any amount we could give wouldn’t be enough. Not enough to change a life, not enough to cure a disease, not enough to really make a difference. I knew deep down that my thinking was flawed, but it took an event that directly impacted me to snap me out of it.
This year, we decided that as a family we would try to help people locally. My husband picked up a tag off his tree at work to buy presents for a 7 year old little girl. Shopping for that was great fun, all the while explaining to the kids why we were buying gifts for someone we didn’t even know. Explaining, as they moaned “But we want that!” that this time of year is not just about getting, but giving. I felt good about this plan, and didn’t plan to delve into the realm of donating money to another charity.
My wakeup call was earlier this month when I received a notification via Facebook that one of my friends in Georgia had lost her battle with breast cancer. She was diagnosed shortly after I met her with Stage 4 cancer and she fought a hard battle. It never occurred to me back then that she would eventually lose her life. She was only a few years older than me. People in their mid- thirties shouldn’t die. Yet they do, and this time it was close to home. I wrestled with the emotions that surfaced and finally came to the conclusion that I simply must give to the Susan G Komen organization. It’s not an earth shattering amount, but I am hoping added to all the other donations from others it will make a difference. As I remember my friend, my hope is that another young woman will win her fight.
This year, we decided that as a family we would try to help people locally. My husband picked up a tag off his tree at work to buy presents for a 7 year old little girl. Shopping for that was great fun, all the while explaining to the kids why we were buying gifts for someone we didn’t even know. Explaining, as they moaned “But we want that!” that this time of year is not just about getting, but giving. I felt good about this plan, and didn’t plan to delve into the realm of donating money to another charity.
My wakeup call was earlier this month when I received a notification via Facebook that one of my friends in Georgia had lost her battle with breast cancer. She was diagnosed shortly after I met her with Stage 4 cancer and she fought a hard battle. It never occurred to me back then that she would eventually lose her life. She was only a few years older than me. People in their mid- thirties shouldn’t die. Yet they do, and this time it was close to home. I wrestled with the emotions that surfaced and finally came to the conclusion that I simply must give to the Susan G Komen organization. It’s not an earth shattering amount, but I am hoping added to all the other donations from others it will make a difference. As I remember my friend, my hope is that another young woman will win her fight.
Friday, December 5, 2008
Afraid of a Fever - My Experience With Febrile Seizure
I had become quite laid back when it came to illness. I knew kids got sick and tried not to rush to the pediatrician every time they sneezed, coughed, or had a little fever. I didn’t even always give fever reducing medicine with every feverish episode. I was feeling pretty secure in my motherly intuition and that my sense of things was usually right. This confidence had come over six years and four boys worth of illnesses and doctor’s visits.
With baby number one this wasn’t the case. I was the nervous new mother, afraid that I was going to do something wrong, miss something huge, or make some novice mistake that would harm the precious, new, tiny human being that had been entrusted into my care. Slowly, I began to trust myself and gained the confidence that I would know if there was something wrong. Gradually, I learned the difference between a stuffy nose that I could handle at home and something that needed a quick trip to the pediatrician. I wasn’t always right, of course. There were times that I was so sure that one of the boys had an ear infection only to be shocked when the pediatrician announced that their ears were “perfect.” Despite that I felt like I had a pretty good handle on when to worry and when to relax and let things run their course.
Something happened recently that has shaken this confidence. Fever has gone from no big deal to a really big, huge, giant deal. I used to only medicate if the temperature reached 100.5 and sometimes not even then if they didn’t seem lethargic or otherwise feeling rotten. I believed the theory that fever is the body’s way of fighting off infection and tried to let it do so. That all changed the morning my 3 year old had a febrile seizure.
The previous evening had been uneventful. The kids all went to bed easily and there was no sign of illness. As often happens, the fever didn’t strike until the middle of the night. My big boy crawled into bed with me and whined and I hugged him and he felt hot. Not the warm, let’s see what happens kind of fever. He was hot. I sleepily wandered into the kitchen and gave him some ibuprofen, and then we slept.
In the morning, I was pleased that his body felt cool and he seemed his bubbly, happy self. As we continued our morning routine of rushing to get his older brothers ready for school, I noticed him getting a little whiny, and even felt his forehead a few times, but he still felt cool to the touch. It wasn’t until we were in the garage getting in the van that upon checking again he felt not warm, but hot. It happened so fast. I quickly put the baby in his car seat and was heading back in the house to get a dose of medicine to give to him. I mentally crossed off the things I wouldn’t be doing that day and wondered if I should call the pediatrician for an appointment after running the kids to school. It was then that I looked over and he was sitting on the garage floor looking down. I said “Hey, buddy, let’s get in the car.” He didn’t respond. I bent down and picked him up and his gaze was fixed on nothing. I could not get him to look at me, or respond in any way to me. My gut told me he was about to have a seizure and I took him inside and called 911.
Even never having seen a child seize, I knew what was happening. I had the knowledge that this was a fairly common thing. I knew that febrile seizures were not usually harmful. I knew they usually had no lasting side effects. Yet, the experience of watching my child go through this was just about more than I could handle. I did manage to hold myself together, barely. I could not ride on the ambulance because I had the other kids to take care of. Watching the ambulance leave with my baby inside was gut wrenching. I’ve never felt so helpless. I called someone to come take my big boys to school. She grabbed the youngest while she was there so I could go to the hospital on my own. I called my husband to meet me at the hospital. He beat the ambulance there, which was so comforting. I kept picturing my little buddy in the hospital, awake but not knowing where he was and having no one he knew with him. The fear of him being alone and afraid was worse than the actual seizure. It was a relief to have that feeling put aside.
That day was in August. It took me three days to stop worrying it was going to happen again. It was at least a week before I stopped touching his forehead several times a day, whether he was acting sick or not. My philosophy for treating fevers has completely turned 180 degrees. Instead of waiting to let things run their course I give him medicine if he reaches 99.5. That is, I will. Fortunately, since that day in late August none of the boys has been ill. That hasn’t stopped me from checking his temperature at the slightest sign of a sneeze. It hasn’t kept me from wondering if and when it will happen again, to him or one of the other boys.
I know that there is nothing I could have done to prevent his seizure. I know that I did everything right that day. I know that he is fine and even if it were to happen again, he would still be fine. Still, the experience shook my confidence that I know when something is serious or not. Sometimes knowledge just isn’t enough to soothe a mother’s heart.
An original Deep South Moms post.
Read more about Rebecca's Life With Boys on her personal blog.
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Posted by Rebecca on December 05, 2008 at 11:50 AM in Rebecca | Permalink
Technorati Tags: Deep South Moms, febrile seizure, Life With Boys
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Sue @ My Party of 6 said...
Oh this story makes my heart race. How very scary. I've never seen a febrile seizure either and I wonder if I could hold it together if one of my kids had one. Thank goodness he was ok and your husband is a fast driver!
Great post!
Reply December 05, 2008 at 01:24 PM Amy@UWM said...
Oh, wow. How scary! Thanks for sharing this. I don't know if would have known what was happening if my child suddenly went unresponsive like that.
Reply December 05, 2008 at 05:32 PM Ann said...
I remember when this happened - how scary. Hopefully you'll never witness that again
ann
Reply December 05, 2008 at 05:47 PM Kate said...
I have never been to this site before but I'll be reading from now on, two posts in one day that have touched my heart.
I understand that feeling, the moment when your child goes from a regular kid to burningly hot and then suddenly there is just nothing in their eyes. Its the most painfully terrifying thing. I was lucky that the after hours dr I saw when my 2 yr old daughter (she's three and a half now) had a chest infection was listening to his intuition, for some reason he sent us to hospital to see the paediatrician when I was happy enough to take the antibiotics and head home. An hour later and just managed to get into the ER after sitting in the waiting room, I was giving her some asthma inhaler and suddenly she wasn't there anymore, her eyes rolled back and she was seizing, her entire body. That feeling of watching people working on your child, hearing the sound of them choke on their own saliva and knowing that apart from making them safe you can't do a damn thing.
But believe me you will find that confidence again, it will be tempered with a little less bravado but you will feel able to trust yourself again. Take strength from the fact that you did the right thing, you can't see these things coming and you may never have to see another one again, and by writing this post you may have prepared another parent for something which lots of people think will never happen to them. Thanks for sharing.
Reply December 08, 2008 at 01:45 PM maryelena said...
You've done a great job describing the horror of the seizures and the loss of confidence in the ability to treat basic childhood illnesses. My daughter had her first febrile seizure at 15 months and another at 26 months and none since (6 years later). You do get your confidence back -- slowly. I became the queen of alternating tylenol and motrin and taking lukewarm baths together. I had some special toys for the fever baths to make them more bearable for her.
The next fever will be scary until you can keep it down and it goes by without incident and then you will be on your way to getting your mommy groove back.
Good luck.
Reply December 08, 2008 at 09:48 PM Rebecca said...
Thanks to all of you for the sweet comments! Kate & Maryelena, thank you so very much for sharing your stories. It is good to know others who have been through the same thing, though I'd never wish the experience on any mother.
With baby number one this wasn’t the case. I was the nervous new mother, afraid that I was going to do something wrong, miss something huge, or make some novice mistake that would harm the precious, new, tiny human being that had been entrusted into my care. Slowly, I began to trust myself and gained the confidence that I would know if there was something wrong. Gradually, I learned the difference between a stuffy nose that I could handle at home and something that needed a quick trip to the pediatrician. I wasn’t always right, of course. There were times that I was so sure that one of the boys had an ear infection only to be shocked when the pediatrician announced that their ears were “perfect.” Despite that I felt like I had a pretty good handle on when to worry and when to relax and let things run their course.
Something happened recently that has shaken this confidence. Fever has gone from no big deal to a really big, huge, giant deal. I used to only medicate if the temperature reached 100.5 and sometimes not even then if they didn’t seem lethargic or otherwise feeling rotten. I believed the theory that fever is the body’s way of fighting off infection and tried to let it do so. That all changed the morning my 3 year old had a febrile seizure.
The previous evening had been uneventful. The kids all went to bed easily and there was no sign of illness. As often happens, the fever didn’t strike until the middle of the night. My big boy crawled into bed with me and whined and I hugged him and he felt hot. Not the warm, let’s see what happens kind of fever. He was hot. I sleepily wandered into the kitchen and gave him some ibuprofen, and then we slept.
In the morning, I was pleased that his body felt cool and he seemed his bubbly, happy self. As we continued our morning routine of rushing to get his older brothers ready for school, I noticed him getting a little whiny, and even felt his forehead a few times, but he still felt cool to the touch. It wasn’t until we were in the garage getting in the van that upon checking again he felt not warm, but hot. It happened so fast. I quickly put the baby in his car seat and was heading back in the house to get a dose of medicine to give to him. I mentally crossed off the things I wouldn’t be doing that day and wondered if I should call the pediatrician for an appointment after running the kids to school. It was then that I looked over and he was sitting on the garage floor looking down. I said “Hey, buddy, let’s get in the car.” He didn’t respond. I bent down and picked him up and his gaze was fixed on nothing. I could not get him to look at me, or respond in any way to me. My gut told me he was about to have a seizure and I took him inside and called 911.
Even never having seen a child seize, I knew what was happening. I had the knowledge that this was a fairly common thing. I knew that febrile seizures were not usually harmful. I knew they usually had no lasting side effects. Yet, the experience of watching my child go through this was just about more than I could handle. I did manage to hold myself together, barely. I could not ride on the ambulance because I had the other kids to take care of. Watching the ambulance leave with my baby inside was gut wrenching. I’ve never felt so helpless. I called someone to come take my big boys to school. She grabbed the youngest while she was there so I could go to the hospital on my own. I called my husband to meet me at the hospital. He beat the ambulance there, which was so comforting. I kept picturing my little buddy in the hospital, awake but not knowing where he was and having no one he knew with him. The fear of him being alone and afraid was worse than the actual seizure. It was a relief to have that feeling put aside.
That day was in August. It took me three days to stop worrying it was going to happen again. It was at least a week before I stopped touching his forehead several times a day, whether he was acting sick or not. My philosophy for treating fevers has completely turned 180 degrees. Instead of waiting to let things run their course I give him medicine if he reaches 99.5. That is, I will. Fortunately, since that day in late August none of the boys has been ill. That hasn’t stopped me from checking his temperature at the slightest sign of a sneeze. It hasn’t kept me from wondering if and when it will happen again, to him or one of the other boys.
I know that there is nothing I could have done to prevent his seizure. I know that I did everything right that day. I know that he is fine and even if it were to happen again, he would still be fine. Still, the experience shook my confidence that I know when something is serious or not. Sometimes knowledge just isn’t enough to soothe a mother’s heart.
An original Deep South Moms post.
Read more about Rebecca's Life With Boys on her personal blog.
ShareThis
Posted by Rebecca on December 05, 2008 at 11:50 AM in Rebecca | Permalink
Technorati Tags: Deep South Moms, febrile seizure, Life With Boys
TrackBack
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.typepad.com/services/trackback/6a00d83451bae269e201053634542e970b
Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Afraid of a Fever - My Experience With a Febrile Seizure :
Comments
Sue @ My Party of 6 said...
Oh this story makes my heart race. How very scary. I've never seen a febrile seizure either and I wonder if I could hold it together if one of my kids had one. Thank goodness he was ok and your husband is a fast driver!
Great post!
Reply December 05, 2008 at 01:24 PM Amy@UWM said...
Oh, wow. How scary! Thanks for sharing this. I don't know if would have known what was happening if my child suddenly went unresponsive like that.
Reply December 05, 2008 at 05:32 PM Ann said...
I remember when this happened - how scary. Hopefully you'll never witness that again
ann
Reply December 05, 2008 at 05:47 PM Kate said...
I have never been to this site before but I'll be reading from now on, two posts in one day that have touched my heart.
I understand that feeling, the moment when your child goes from a regular kid to burningly hot and then suddenly there is just nothing in their eyes. Its the most painfully terrifying thing. I was lucky that the after hours dr I saw when my 2 yr old daughter (she's three and a half now) had a chest infection was listening to his intuition, for some reason he sent us to hospital to see the paediatrician when I was happy enough to take the antibiotics and head home. An hour later and just managed to get into the ER after sitting in the waiting room, I was giving her some asthma inhaler and suddenly she wasn't there anymore, her eyes rolled back and she was seizing, her entire body. That feeling of watching people working on your child, hearing the sound of them choke on their own saliva and knowing that apart from making them safe you can't do a damn thing.
But believe me you will find that confidence again, it will be tempered with a little less bravado but you will feel able to trust yourself again. Take strength from the fact that you did the right thing, you can't see these things coming and you may never have to see another one again, and by writing this post you may have prepared another parent for something which lots of people think will never happen to them. Thanks for sharing.
Reply December 08, 2008 at 01:45 PM maryelena said...
You've done a great job describing the horror of the seizures and the loss of confidence in the ability to treat basic childhood illnesses. My daughter had her first febrile seizure at 15 months and another at 26 months and none since (6 years later). You do get your confidence back -- slowly. I became the queen of alternating tylenol and motrin and taking lukewarm baths together. I had some special toys for the fever baths to make them more bearable for her.
The next fever will be scary until you can keep it down and it goes by without incident and then you will be on your way to getting your mommy groove back.
Good luck.
Reply December 08, 2008 at 09:48 PM Rebecca said...
Thanks to all of you for the sweet comments! Kate & Maryelena, thank you so very much for sharing your stories. It is good to know others who have been through the same thing, though I'd never wish the experience on any mother.
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