100, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93…what if something is horribly wrong with him?…focus on the counting, Sarah, you’ve got to get some sleep…92, 91, 90, 89, 88……what if I missed something? is it my fault?….87, 86, 85, 84, 83, 82…..he doesn’t deserve this…81, 80, 79, 78, 76…sleep, Sarah, sleep…

The last four nights have been filled with what seems to be one million what ifs and numbers. In the past, counting backwards has always helped to drown out my worries and lead sleep to me in the midst of my jumbled thoughts. And although my method still managed to succeed, the sheer volume of numbers recited in my mind was staggering.

My tiny snowball of worry started with an apprehensive visit last Friday to one of our pediatrician’s associates (ours was out of the country), which quickly morphed into an immediate referral and appointment with a pediatric neurologist on Monday. I’m sure I don’t even need to explain how terrifying it is to hear a pediatrician explaining the types of neurological events and disorders she wants to rule out…you know, the ones that make the back of your neck start to sweat and your hands tremble. And to top it all off, the fact that you must wait until 2 pm on Monday to find these things out. 76 hours, to be exact.

My weekend was abysmal.

The days were decent, but I couldn’t help but dissolve into tears every night while staring up at the dimly lit ceiling. Many people read this entry I wrote for ParentDish coupled with some nervous twitters, and put two and two together about what was happening. I can’t begin to tell you how wonderful it was to receive emails from friends and complete strangers telling me that we were in their thoughts. To all of you, I can’t thank you enough. Honestly.

Monday’s appointment finally arrived, and the neurologist was wonderful. Wito and Dr. M took to each other immediately. He filled us up with reassuring words, but thought it was important for us to see a sub-specialty in the neurological field in the near future. And by near future, I mean upon entering my home after the appointment, I answered my ringing phone and it was the sub-specialist’s office making an appointment for the next morning.

Yesterday morning, we buckled Wito into his car seat and drove to his third doctor’s appointment in five days. As we walked into the medical center, I looked down and this perfect little child, shuffling his feet and cooing to the trees, and felt horribly nervous for putting him through all of this. Of course, being the sweet toddler he is, he just looked at me, smiled and said “Bah!” (He is obsessed with saying bye right now.)

Three long hours later, we walked out with one of the most promising diagnoses we could have received. Wito should be just fine. Just fine.

This experience was definitely my foray into the serious worries of parenthood. However, we were one of the lucky ones. What about all of the parents who aren’t as lucky? The ones whose world is turned absolutely upside-down in the matter of a day? The ones dealing with life-threatening illnesses and life-altering diagnoses of their little ones?

To all of you who have dealt or are dealing with such situations, I just want to say that I am so sorry. It must be absolutely frightening what you are going through. It’s so hard to put into words, and I’m not trying to discount people without children’s feelings, but the love you feel for your child is different. It is different. It’s intensity can’t be described. Everything is in surround-sound; your happiness, fears, worries, joy, pride, guilt, everything.

Like I said, we were one of the lucky ones this time around. I won’t take that for granted.

With that said, I’m going to taking a break from Hair Thursdays until the new year. I’ll be leaving soon for an extended visit with my family (including my brand new nephew, Sam) and would like to focus a little more on my sweet boy over the holidays.

I’ll still be posting at ParentDish every day, and popping in here from time to time. (You just know an extended period with my family makes for excellent blog fodder.)

Once again, thank you for your thoughts and general awesomeness. Wito would also like me to tell y’all, “Bah!”

So, Bah!

  1. Pam

    December 5, 2007 at 9:14 am

    So glad to hear things are going to be fine for you and Wito. I hope you and your family have a great holiday season!

  2. andrea

    December 5, 2007 at 9:04 am

    You and Wito were in my thoughts all weekend. I am so relieved to hear that he is just fine and am so glad you’ll be taking a break from all of us to concentrate on your amazing little man.

    All it takes is a little scare to make you realize how lucky we all are here with our healthy children, on the flip side it makes you realize how quickly that can all be taken away from you. So glad you were one of the lucky ones this time.

    Enjoy your holidays and even better, enjoy meeting that delicious new nephew.

  3. Angella

    December 5, 2007 at 9:22 am

    So, so happy that everything is OK.


  4. rosalicious

    December 5, 2007 at 9:29 am

    Yay Wito!

    Have a great time with the fam and happy holidays!

    Bah bah!

    (That’s how we say it in the south, too)

  5. sizzle

    December 5, 2007 at 9:32 am

    so glad to hear that little buddle of love is ok. phew! i hope you have a fantastic holiday with your family. :)

  6. Meg

    December 5, 2007 at 9:36 am

    Happy to see the relief in your words. :-) Hugs to Wito.

  7. Isabel

    December 5, 2007 at 9:42 am

    Enjoy your time with those you love! We’ll be here when you get back.

  8. Heather B.

    December 5, 2007 at 9:47 am

    I’m very happy for all of you.

    Here’s to a good holiday with your family and any other insane people who happen to stop by.

  9. LVGurl

    December 5, 2007 at 9:54 am

    We’ve been thinking about you! Wito rocks, that’s all that matters! Someday soon he’s gonna lay down some hurt on that pesky twitch. Show it who’s boss. As I said earlier, I hope hope HOPE this whole thing disappears as quickly as it appeared.

    I was just telling Elisabeth how tough it is sometimes, that there is no “finish line” with our children. That you never get to some magical age and God mails you a guarantee that nothing will ever go wrong; a promise that your child will always be healthy and safe. We permanently wear our hearts on our sleeves. It’s overwhelming! All I can do is focus on how blessed we are to have our wonderful children — happy days, challenges and all!

  10. lisa

    December 5, 2007 at 10:01 am

    Wonderful news for your little one …..life is precious and it is times like these that we take into consideration how very lucky we are…and send postivite vibes to those less fortunate…enjoy your family, enjoy being the amazing mama you are…and the wonderful woman you are….sounds like you have a very exciting rest of the year!! Famiy gatherings and meeting a new member to your clan:) ENJOY…HAPPY Holidays ….lisa

  11. Mir

    December 5, 2007 at 10:02 am

    I’m very glad your bambino is okay, but the fact that I’m now going to have to look like crap all the way through until January is still making me a wee bit sad. I’ll get over it. Probably.

  12. Amanda

    December 5, 2007 at 10:09 am

    I’m glad to hear everything is ok! I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m glad that you’ll be able to spend some time with your family – enjoy it and relax! You deserve it!

  13. Mandee

    December 5, 2007 at 10:18 am

    Just one of those strangers weighing in to express my relief that you got the best case scenario. I”m sure it’s a little odd to know there are lots of out here worrying about you and checking in for news.

    Enjoy the holidays!

  14. Nilsa S.

    December 5, 2007 at 10:23 am

    I’m not a parent, so I cannot imagine the thrills and spills one takes. However, tell me this – had the diagnosis been different, would you feel any differently about Wito? I’d venture to guess he’d still shuffle along and say “Bah” and you’d still love him to the utmost from the depths inside. From what I understand, those with children suffering from afflictions are really no different. We all love our offspring. Period.

    I was referring to a parent/non-parent love, not a healthy child/afflicted child love.

  15. angie

    December 5, 2007 at 10:56 am

    The hairs on the back of my neck stood out when you said Neurologist. You need say no more. I’m so glad he’s fine! Our daughter born last year wasn’t so fortunate. Her visits to the Neurologist involved things like grave, and cerebral palsy, and seizures, and other nightmare conditions.

    Thank God Wito is doing well. You deserve a vacation.