It's the way the universe works, right? You say you're happy and then your kid wakes up with a 105.1 fever and doesn't eat for a week and doesn't sleep for a week so of course you don't sleep for a week and eat nothing but cookies and pastries for a week and by the end of it you're left clinging to your last shred of sanity wondering when the circles under your eyes got so dark and why does your heart feel like it's going to beat right out of your chest and where the fuck did that second upper thigh / ass roll come from (you swear there was only one last week) (you've conveniently forgotten about the week of eating cookies and pastries.)
These ups and downs have always been a part of my life but they've never been quite so high or so low as they've been since Grady was born. I don't know if it's still hormones or the lack of sleep or if it's because I haven't quite adjusted to having my heart walking around outside of me just yet but I can't seem to find a nice level mood (one that doesn't require self-medication with baked goods.)
We ended up in the hospital with Grady again (I am nowhere near equipped to deal with a child with a fever of 105.1 and of course it peaked at midnight and not during our doctor's office hours) and I thought that this time, our second time around, it would be easier. It really wasn't, though. My mind went dark, just like last time, and I clung to my feverish little boy like I could somehow lower his temperature if I just willed it hard enough.
Grady's fine. He's still sick but he's going to be fine. He's slowly starting to eat again and we've gone a full day without his temperature rising above normal. I'm going to fine too. I've put the cookies away and I've dug out my therapy workbooks for a quick refresher. I think it may do me some good to work on my mood when it's on its way up rather than waiting until I'm in the depths of my crazy again.
I want Grady to grow up with a mom who doesn't hold her breath in a crisis.