I know what you are going to say. It’s Thursday and she is writing about the weekend now? Fair enough, I am a bit late. But Baba has been ill, so Frenchie Mummy has not had much time to write. And I spent most of my days comforting le petit. I am actually bouncing him while typing this right now…
A Bank Holiday weekend is always synonym of joy and happiness amongst people. Being at the end of the month also meant that Grumpy Boyfriend would have less work and our petite famille would do something nice. No need to say that I was really looking forward to it. Oui mais voilà, we experienced our first big trauma with Baba.
It all started good. Papa did a bit of work in the morning while Maman was getting on really well with her new challenge: exercising and losing weight (well, trying at least). Yes, I was going for it, with 2 workouts in the morning. Sweating and aching like an old lady, I was actively producing endorphins. Baba was au paradis as well. He was finding it amusant to see me making weird movements, becoming more and more breathless. He would even dare giggling at times. ‘Petit monstre! Stop laughing at Mummy.’
The day went on nicely as we had a family walk with Papa. However, once home, Baba started sneezing a bit. Straight away, armed with Saline Nasal Spray, Mummy went on a mission to get rid of this naughty rhume. Not too worried about it, the whole little family had a good night as I was writing my next post celebrating Mother’s Day.
The next day was going to be as nice. We went down to Brighton to spend some time with Papie Len. While Baba was enjoying both the fresh air and the attention (as usual), everyone took some sun.
On the seafront
Papie Len was pleased to see his grandson and Baba was intrigued by the food we consumed in the Italian restaurant by the beach (I am posting the picture to prove that Baba is probably going to end up being a little glouton like his Maman).
The fresh air of the seaside was making wonder on the baby and Frenchie Mummy was (naively!) glad to see that his cough was getting better. Quelle erreur!
With all this excitement, Baba was fast to fall asleep and Papa et Maman watched a full movie without being interrupted. Mummy didn’t need to change his nappy or feed him and then totally lose the story plot. Hurray!!! Well, maybe a bit too fast to claim victoire…
It’s 4.12am in the morning and Baba starts screaming like he’s never done before. Still half asleep, I sit up and with horror, find mon bébé out of breath. His nose is blocked and his face is very red. I rushed to comfort him and put him on my shoulder to help him take in some air. Both Grumpy Boyfriend and I take in turns over the next 10 (so long!) minutes. We even take him outside to have some fresh air, but nothing changes. He actually gets worse. A decision is made to rush to the A&E.
Highly strung, I shout at Grumpy Boyfriend for not being fast enough to get ready. I mean seriously, how does he dare putting shoes on, right? My baby is lacking oxygen. ‘Enchaîne!!!!’ And god knows that poor Grumpy Boyfriend hurries up. Hearing how much Baba is in pain during the journey is killing me. I order Papa to skip the red lights. We approach the hospital. At this point, the baby looks a bit calmer and not so much breathless.
To my surprise, it’s very quiet. There is already a young dad with another baby waiting. He smiles at me. We are in the same boat I suppose. His little girl doesn’t seem in a better state. We don’t wait too long and we see the doctor. She examines Baba in detail, measures his saturation. Happy to be played with, Baba is literally flirting with her. La tension est à son comble. We obviously explain to her that Baba has a VSD. It’s a heart defect (I will write about it in another post). I am fearing the worst. Is there a complication with his condition? Is the hole in his heart getting bigger?
We agree to stay another hour so that the doctor can examine him more. Eventually, she is not much concerned. ‘He has croup. Nothing serious. So I am not prescribing anything’. ‘Ouf!’ But what a night! Back home at around 7.am, we are not long to fall asleep again. We don’t even get up before 10.am, later in the morning. Luckily, it’s a Bank Holiday and Grumpy Boyfriend doesn’t have to work…
But what a shock! It was the first time I was really worried about Baba’s health. I know that we will encounter many other scares like that. You always do when you have children. Not knowing exactly the problem and being unable to help Baba was the worst feeling ever. I wish everything was way simpler, but a baby always brings you extra worry I suppose.
Mon amour is now slowly but surely getting better. I still wish the doctor had given us some drugs, but hopefully, it will be fine. I am spending my days (and especially nights) hovering above his bed to see if he is still breathing. I know he would let me know if he was in any discomfort, but I don’t want us to have to rush again to the hospital anytime soon!
What was your first trauma with baby? And how did you cope with it? I am not sure I will survive any other!