Coping with baby's first illness

By Jane Han

No matter what parents do, babies will invariably get sick at one point or another.

For me, that point — fortunately, I must say — came later than most people. But it came as a triple whammy. Three major injuries and illnesses coming on in three consecutive weeks.

And these weren’t just regular fever and a runny nose kind of illnesses, but full-fledged rush-to-the-ER kinds of situations.

The three-part series began with Baby A on a typical Saturday morning.

She was doing her usual 9-month-old thing — pulling herself up to a stand, falling and repeating that about 100 times. The falling has never been a big deal for her, but that day, she somehow landed hard — really hard — on her collarbone.

I raced to help her up, but at that point, she was already crying uncontrollably and in severe pain every time I tried to hold her. Baby A and I were both in panic, and that’s when Dad came to the rescue.

He quickly got us to the emergency room at a children’s hospital about 15 minutes away. After no less than an hour of paperwork, a preliminary checkup and an X-ray, we found out Baby A had a fractured collarbone.

The doctor kept saying it’s a common injury for babies, but it was still heartbreaking for me to see my little one, still so tiny, in a sling.

I was told to come back in four to six weeks for a follow-up, but we found ourselves back in the ER the very next Saturday.

This time, Baby B was in trouble. She woke up from a nap with a temperature of 42 degree Celsius. I always wondered what kind of temperature would be high enough to rush to the hospital. This was it.

The entire trip to the ER, Baby B was turning more and more purple, shivering and shaking. And I, as any parent would be, was totally losing it.

Fifteen minutes never felt so long in all my life and, before the car even came to a complete stop, I was already jumping out to get my poor girl out of her car seat.

The frustrating thing was, no one else in the ER seemed to be in a rush. I guess to them, a 42-degree-Celsius temperature was no biggie.

We were told to wait our turn so I tried my best to behave like a mature adult. I tried. I can’t guarantee I was, but again, I tried.

By then, the fever medicine was starting to kick in so Baby B’s temperature wasn’t as high.

After a few hours of tests and more waiting, we found out that Baby B was suffering from a urinary tract infection.

The doctor said this is another common illness among babies and the most obvious symptom is a high fever with undeterminable reasons.

She was put on antibiotics for 10 days and was due for a follow-up afterwards, but guess what? Yes, another ER trip.

This time, it was both Baby A and B.

Yet another Saturday turned into chaos because of the most unexpected thing — eggs.

I knew my girls weren’t allergic to eggs after carefully trying them a few weeks ago, so I comfortably gave them a few bites of boiled eggs for breakfast.

Well, minutes later, all hell broke loose.

Both broke out in hives and rashes, vomited and swelled up all over their bodies. This was an entirely different kind of urgency from fractured bones and high temperatures.

It was definitely a life-or-death situation since allergies can mean trouble breathing. After some allergy medicine, we made another mad dash to the ER, where we are now considered regulars.

Another few hours later, the girls were brought back home safe and sound. No more eggs for them until a complete allergy test.

Looking back, I don’t know how the past three weeks flew by. It was a tough time for all of us, but for a mother, it was a deeply humbling experience.

Just seeing my girls smile, crawl, pick up food, giggle, cry and do their everyday things make me incredibly happy and thankful.

I may have taken for granted things that I shouldn’t have. They don’t have to do anything outstanding to make me happy.

I realized, for the first time, that their existence and wellness alone would truly be enough for me.