When this bout reared its head, we toughed it out for a night but again went to Triaminic. Friday night, it worked; some coughing but subdued and he could sleep. Saturday night, not so much. He coughed mightily from the time he lay down. We took turns heading into his room when he cried. We took turns going into his room even if he wouldn't cry, just to check. We tried to get honey into him to ease his throat. I slept in his bed, he came into ours. We headed out onto the front porch in the freezing cold with him wrapped in a blanket to lessen the croupies. We even called the pediatrician when he cried that he needed to cough but couldn't. And of course, our frustration got the better of us and we briefly turned on each other.
Nonetheless, at 6:00 am Easter morning, the sun was up and so were my boys, ready for their Easter baskets. Gremlin definitely handled the sleepless night far better than his daddy or I did. We all slept last night (sans drugs) and this morning, my boy felt good enough that he's in preschool, making a fruit salad and learning about Passover.
I know the frustration, fear, pity, sadness, and helplessness I felt watching my baby deal with what is, in reality a blip, a minor cold - he barely had a temperature. And I think of Mike and Heather Spohr, who lost their little girl because her body wasn't strong enough to win her last battle. Friends of my blog friends, who will be attending her funeral tomorrow.
I lost a night's sleep and probably encouraged a few more gray hairs. I can take it. I thank God for making my family strong and healthy. I thank Him for giving me perspective. I pray for Mike and Heather that they will somehow find the strength to put one foot in front of the other. I hope they feel the love that is out here for them.