Robbie picked up Noah from daycare last Friday (4/27/12), as he usually does. Noah was acting normally. When they got home, Robbie noticed that Noah had spit up sometime during the trip. He took him inside, cleaned him up, and put him in his swing momentarily to let the dogs outside.
When he came back for him, Robbie found that Noah had thrown up. Not spit up, but totally thrown up. Robbie cleaned him up again and then they both settled into the recliner in the living room. Noah fell asleep on Robbie’s chest.
When I came home from work, Robbie told me about both incidents. I set my things down and went to pick Noah up. As soon as I turned him toward me, Noah threw up again. No fussing, no projecting, no other nuances whatsoever. Just thin, milky liquid that poured from his mouth and fell like a waterfall all over him, me, and the floor.
We took him to his room and as Robbie cleaned him up for the third time, I called daycare to see if he’d been acting differently that day and to ask if any other kids had gotten sick. I spoke to one of the managers and she said that Noah was fine all day and that nobody else had been sick.
This was the first time we’ve dealt with a sick baby. Neither one of us knew how serious the situation was. Noah was acting totally normal despite the vomiting, so we didn’t really know how concerned we should be. We both were aware that there could be a risk of dehydration if he lost too much fluid, but we didn’t know how much fluid he could lose before that happened.
I’d bought a Vicks Rectal Thermometer in preparation for the inevitable time when Noah became ill. Robbie didn’t like the idea of taking Noah’s temperature rectally (but who does likes the idea of taking a rectal temperature?), so I took his temperature via armpit. After adding a degree per the instructions, Noah’s temperature read 97.6. That seemed low to me, so I went ahead and took his temperature rectally (making sure to use plenty of petroleum jelly!). The temperature read the same.
Something just didn’t seem right, so we cleaned the thermometer and Robbie used it to take his own temperature via armpit. The thermometer read 96.something. Something definitely wasn’t right, but we didn’t have another thermometer. (I really need to pick one up.) Despite the issue with the thermometer, Noah didn’t feel the slightest bit warm so we weren’t concerned about him having a fever. We were just trying to take his temperature because we were at a loss of what else to do.
I called the after hours line for our pediatricians office. After telling the on-call nurse what was happening, she suggested that we go ahead and take him to an immediate care center to be seen. She said for a baby his age they recommend having a doctor check them out if the baby has thrown up three or more times in 24 hours. Robbie was hesitant about rushing off to the immediate care center. He thought that Noah was fine and that he probably had a minor stomach bug. A part of me felt the same way because Noah was otherwise acting normally, but the Worry Wart inside of me just wouldn’t relax unless I had him seen.
I took my time putting him in his car seat while I fretted over whether or not a trip to the Immediate Care was really warranted. As if he were trying to convince me, Noah threw up again. That was enough to get both me and Robbie out the door.
We had reservations to a private opening of a new Longhorn Steakhouse location that night, but with everything going on we knew we weren’t going to make it. We tried calling everybody that we know to see if somebody could take the reservation for us, but unfortunately nobody could make it at such short notice. I called and canceled the reservation while we were in the car.
The closest Immediate Care is only a few minutes away so we got there quickly. While I was filling out the necessary paperwork, Noah threw up in the waiting room. It got all over him, his carseat, and a chair. That was no fun to deal with.
We were taken back quickly and only waited a few minutes for the doctor. When he came in, the first thing he said was that in the future we should take Noah to an immediate care about 20 minutes away because they have a pediatrician on staff. A part of me wondered if we should just go ahead and go there, but I’d already paid our co-pay and we were already in front of the doctor. He seemed like he was trying to refresh his memory on how to exam an infant because as he looked Noah over he would explain what he was doing as if he were going down a checklist. He’d occasionally pause and seem to think about what he was doing or saying and then he’d continue on, muttering affirmations to himself.
When he was done examining Noah, the doctor basically said the same thing that we already knew/felt. He confirmed that Noah didn’t have a fever (his temperature was 98.6), his abdomen was soft, his lungs were clear, he had good bowel sounds, his ears, nose, throat, and eyes looked fine. He wasn’t fussy and didn’t seem distressed. The doctor concluded that he probably had a minor stomach virus. He told us that we should monitor Noah’s fluids and urine output and if he couldn’t keep down breast milk or Pedialyte then we should take him to the hospital because he could become dehydrated. He said that I could try nursing him, but to only give him a little bit to be easy on his stomach.
I think Robbie and I both felt a mixture of relief that nothing major was wrong and regret because we both felt like we were overreacting. Robbie’s mind was totally put at ease at this point, but I couldn’t shake my worry. We left the Immediate Care, stopped at the store to get some Pedialyte, then came home. I decided to try to nurse him before we gave him any Pedialyte. He latched on and ate for a couple of minutes, but he was sleepy and didn’t seem very interested in continuing. It was only about 10 minutes before he threw up again.
After cleaning him up, Robbie put 2oz of Pedialyte in a bottle and I tried giving it to him. It was the first time Noah’d had anything other than milk and a little bit of formula and he did not like it! We tried two different flavors and he refused to drink either one. Robbie ended up giving him about 4 teaspoons with a syringe because that was the only way to get it down.
I realized that I didn’t ask the doctor how long Noah could go without keeping fluids down before becoming dehydrated. Since he was still throwing up, I decided to call the after hours line for our pediatrician again. I spoke with a different nurse this time and she surprised me by saying that we should go ahead and take Noah to the children’s hospital. She said that because of his age and the amount of times that he’d thrown up, the Pedialyte wouldn’t re-hydrate him.
If I felt a little bit conflicted about taking Noah to the Immediate Care, I felt very conflicted about taking him to the hospital. I knew that Robbie would think the suggestion was ridiculous. My common sense was telling me that Noah was fine, but the alarmist inside of me was saying that I shouldn’t question what the nurse was telling me. After all, she’s the expert and I’m not. I was afraid of disregarding her directions only to have Noah become severely dehydrated and not get help in time, all of which would be my fault.
I put the nurse on speaker phone so she could repeat herself for Robbie’s sake. At this point he’d been dealing with my excessive fretting for several hours and he had no interest in debating or arguing with me. He simply resigned himself to go along with whatever I felt like we should do. I was incredibly torn. On the one hand I felt like Noah was fine and I knew that we didn’t have $250 just lying around waiting to be spent on a hospital co-pay. On the other hand I was afraid of my own ignorance and I didn’t want to be dismissive of what the nurse was telling me, only to pay for it with my baby’s health and possibly his life. (I know, so dramatic.)
I gave in to my fear and reluctantly decided to drag everyone downtown to the hospital. We drove in silence. I sat in the back seat with Noah and my guilt. For the entire ride I was a breath away from calling everything off and telling Robbie to turn around and go home. I felt ridiculous. I felt stupid. Noah was fine and I knew it, but I couldn’t master my fear of the worst-case-scenario.
It was past Noah’s bedtime by the time we got to the ER. He slept during the car ride and he continued to sleep after we brought him inside. The waiting room held a lot of people, but it wasn’t full. Robbie sat down with Noah while I gave our information to the registration desk. They called us back pretty quickly to get his weight and a summary of what was wrong. The nurse that helped us at this point said she thought he could be swallowing mucus since he was so congested, which was causing him to throw up. She said they might use a machine to fully suction his nasal passage and that may help him. He received a red hospital bracelet and we were sent to a different hallway to take care of billing and insurance. We only spent a few minutes here and then we were sent back to the waiting room until Noah was called.
Robbie held Noah and walked him around the waiting room and through the adjacent halls to try to keep him away from the coughing and sniffling that surrounded us. Noah had woken up and he was looking around curiously. I kept expecting him to get fussy because it was so far past his bedtime, but he remained calm and quiet all night long.
A young woman was there with her 1-year-old daughter and she kept commenting on how strong Noah’s neck was. She kept telling her daughter to look at the baby and she said that she wished her daughter was still as young as Noah.
A man named Doug came around the waiting room often and spoke with each family that was there. He asked if we needed anything and assured everyone that we’d be seen soon.
The waiting room cleared out almost entirely by the time we were seen. We’d settled into a set of chairs in a corner and held Noah so that he could watch one of the many TVs stationed about.
When we were called back we were simply taken to a private room where we ended up waiting some more. Noah fell asleep again and Robbie put in The Incredibles, which he found in a small stack of DVDs the hospital provided in the room to pass the time.
Thankfully I’d grabbed my breast pump before we left the house because we’d been so busy since the time I got home that I hadn’t had the chance to relieve myself. Robbie went to the garage and brought me the pump from the car. It occurred to me that it’d been several hours since we’d given Noah the Pedialyte and he hadn’t thrown up since, so we asked if I could try nursing him and we were told that was okay. I pumped to relieve myself a little bit and then I tried to feed Noah. He latched on immediately and ate like he normally does. I let him nurse for almost 15 minutes and pumped the rest.
A resident doctor came in and checked Noah out. She did all of the same things that the doctor at the Immediate Care had done earlier that evening. She said he seemed fine and that he probably just had a stomach virus, but she’d send the attending doctor in to do a final exam and hopefully get us discharged. By this point we were all exhausted and I felt incredibly foolish and defeated. I knew that I was the one responsible for putting us through this exhausting and unnecessary experience and I felt sick with guilt.
The attending doctor came by shortly and told us all of the same things that we’d heard throughout our entire ordeal. He said that dehydration wouldn’t become a concern until Noah didn’t keep fluid down for 24 hours. He talked to us for several minutes, though I can’t remember all that was said. I was holding Noah and felt a warmth on my lap. I figured he’d just peed on me, but when I checked I discovered that he’d had a major, yet silent blowout and it’d gotten all over my pants. The doctor told us we were free to go and said he’d get somebody to help us clean up as he practically ran out of the room. A nurse got me a pair of scrub pants while I cleaned Noah up.
Everybody that looked at Noah that night mentioned his congestion, so Robbie asked the nurse if they would suction Noah’s nose for us before we left. We suction it multiple times a day but just can’t seem to conquer it. He told the nurse several times that he didn’t want to be there to see it if the machine they used was going to be uncomfortable for Noah. The nurse assured him it wouldn’t be. They left to suction his nose while I changed pants.
While I was changing I heard a terrible scream outside the door, but it never occurred to me that it might be Noah because I’d never heard a sound like that from him before. Sure enough, Robbie was stone faced when he returned to the room. He said that he had to hold Noah down while they used the machine to suction him. Noah was calm at that point, but Robbie said that the scream had come from him.
We gathered our things and left as quickly as we could. We got home around 2AM and thankfully Noah went right to sleep when we put him to bed. We let the dogs out and then Robbie and I went to bed too.
It was an exhausting and unnecessary experience, but I’m glad that Noah’s first trip to the ER was for something harmless instead of something major. He was such a great baby throughout the whole experience. He was always calm and never fussy. We really do have a great boy.
