A not-so-pleasant adventure

My last blog ended with the expectancy of greatness, of adventure. I really thought that new and exciting experiences would, now that I was open to possibility, come bounding at me like an over-excited puppy. I honestly have been on the look out to say ‘yeah, why not?’ rather than shunning anything out of the mundane. But as yet nothing.

On sunday we did have an adventure of sorts. One that has already altered me as a mum. But it was not a nice experience at all…

The day of the adventure started with Ruby throwing up everywhere when she came in our room to have her morning milk. She was a bit too warm for my liking and a bit pathetic so we gave her calpol, it worked its’ magic and within an hour she was cooler and playing with her big sister.

My little family was suited and booted and then off to baby’s Grace’s dedication. It was lovely to see our friends Hannah and Stephen who we knew as singletons, as a couple falling in love, as a married entity, now standing with their daughter as mummy and daddy. Awesome.

After church, we drove over to the hotel where the celebration meal would be with han and stephen’s family and friends. We got a table, a drink and we were just laughing with some others about giving Chloe (accidentally!) a really strong liqueur truffle when The Husband shouted at me to look at Ruby who was in her buggy by by the table. She was fitting. I have never felt to sick, scared and clueless as I did that moment. Ever. The next few minutes were a slow motioned blur as Rob grabbed Ruby out of her buggy and dashed out into the corridor with her. I screamed for help and an angel called Sarah appeared and took over. She was a nurse I think. The instant I realised we’d need an ambulance Rob looked over at me and vocalised my thoughts. So I shouted again, this time for a phone. By the time I got one Stephen was already onto it and was giving information to the emergency operator.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like I was failing as a mother because I was too scared to go into the corridor where she was. She wasn’t making any noise and when Rob ran out with her and she was struggling to breathe at best. I was pacing from the corridor to the main room, trying to get our stuff together in a panic and work out in my mind how we’d get Chloe home. Hannah was calming me down when I heard Ruby start crying from the corridor. Crying has never sounded so sweet. Relief doesnt describe it, as I raced to her on the floor of that corridor.

Ruby’s seizure stopped and she lay on the floor in her beautiful dress that she should have been bouncing around in. Her eyes kept rolling but Sarah, my angel, assured me she was awake but that the fit had made her really tired. She explained to me that ruby had just had what was called a febrile convulsion, brought on by a high fever.

The siren of the ambulance sounded almost as sweet as Ruby’s cry.

And so began a short stay in hospital. First to A&E and then onto the children’s ward for the night. Although it was the fright of my life I still hadn’t understood Ruby’s situation until she started to improve. The staff in A&E were so calm that I started to relax a little. In her sleep Ruby limbs started really twitching and we were anxious she was starting another seizure. The nurse we’d already seen came in and explained that it was because Ruby was still really hot and her body was trying to cool itself down. She then said that Ruby was already doing much better than she was when she first came in. I asked why she said that, because to me she was no different. She said that when Ruby was brought in, her hands and feet were really cold amd that indicated that her body was starting to shut down, blood moving away from the extremities and preparing to protect her vital organs. Eeek. I’m glad she didn’t tell me that at the time. But her hands and feet had started to warm up, which is why this nurse had seen improvement. Massive phew.

We went up to the children’s ward and spent the the next twenty hours there before we could come home. Throughout the sunday afternoon, Ruby’s temperature slowly creeped down as she lay on her bed and watched Cbeebies on her own little TV.

I slept on a fold down bed next to my baby girls’ bed. I use the term ‘slept’ loosely. There were about ten beds on the ward and by the morning i think there was only one empty bay. So 9 babies and toddlers and children took turns to be feverish and distressed through the night, and each cry seemed somewhat amplified in the wee hours. Ruby took her turn around 1.15 when she started shouting out and within minutes a lady in a bright tabbard (I still don’t know exactly what their role was, they seemed to do everything) was by the bed sticking another thermometer under Ruby’s arm. They knew that restlessnes probably indicated that Ruby was getting hot again. And she was right. So after that, regardless of moments of quiet on the ward, I couldn’t rest and with every movement from my baby I was up on her bed with her, stroking her hair.

Back at home Chloe was unsettled and was missing her baby sister. Rob had a genius idea that appeased her. Who knew a photo could be so helpful.

That was sunday. And that was my adventure. It’s now wednesday. Ruby’s still under the weather but playing and smiling and chatting lots more. her temperature is playing games with me and doing a little rollercoaster but Calpol is doing it’s job.

So I said earlier that it has altered me as a mum. I do admit I was very fussy when Chloe was tiny. But I’d like to think I’ve chilled out since then, particularly with Ruby. But going through something that is completely beyond parental control has made me feel more vulnerable. I know I’m going to be a lot more handy with the thermometer now (even though I know that it still cannot prevent a febrile convulsion) but fear is often irrational. My dad told me he was speaking to another mum who’s little boy had had a seizure and felt the same way, so at least I’m not alone in my (hopefully temporary) neuroticism.

I’d like my next adventure to be more fun and inspiring. And I refuse to move on with my experiment until I have it!

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