One of the best AND worst days of my life

(**This post was written back on Sept. 25 and refers to the day of Sept. 12**)

The day started out like any other day.  I woke up to Brady starting to stir in his room.  I got up and went to the bathroom.  I decided to take a pregnancy test.  I was completely expecting it to be negative. I had taken a test 2 days prior and it came back negative.  It was still too early to tell, but all the test say now they will tell you "5 days before your missed period".  So I decided what the heck.  Within a minute or so I SWEAR I saw a second line.  It was one of those barely there, but definitely there second lines, meaning POSITIVE.  I went ahead and got in the shower to continue my usual routine.  I figured I would study the test more once I got out.  When I got out I determined it was DEFINITELY positive.  I briefly thought of some cute way to tell Paul, but nothing came to me (it was like 7:30am).  And, there was no way I could keep it a secret from him.  So I gently shook him in bed and said, "I've got to tell you something."  He quickly opened his eyes and said, "you're pregnant?"  I responded, "Yes! You are going to be a daddy again!"

I soaked up those few minutes of excitement coupled with nervousness and disbelief that I had another precious blessing growing in my belly!  Then the day took a turn...I went into Brady's room to get him and he felt very warm.  He had been fighting off a bacterial infection and had been on antibiotics for about 5 days.  The night before he started running a slight fever again.  That morning his fever was back up to 102.7.  We called the doctors office as soon as they opened at 8am and made an appointment to come in.

The office was packed.  It took them almost an hour just to get us back to a room.  Our frustration and worry was starting to brew.  When the doctor finally came in to see us he wanted us to take him to the lab to prick his toe and get his white blood count.  Brady had no real symptoms other than the fever and he was congested.  He told us to meet him in his office once we were done in the lab.  We had to wait forever in the lab, then I hate to wait what seemed like forever for the doctor to return to his office.  Paul went ahead and left to go run some errands, get us lunch, and meet us back at home.  We have been through this routine before so we thought he would prescribe us some medicine, and we would be on our way.  Finally the doctor met me in his office, and the first thing he said when he looked at the lab was, "WOW," with a worried tone in his voice.

He told me that Brady's white blood count was 30k (up from 23k before he started the antibiotics; normal range is 5-10k), and he could not just pass this up as simple virus or bacterial infection.  He proceeded to tell me that they needed to do a chest X-ray and also place a catheter to rule out the possibility of a bladder infection.  He then told me they may have to admit him to the hospital to run further tests.  I was speechless.  He walked out of his office to get the nurse to let her know what we were going to do.  I immediately called Paul and burst into tears.  I could not fathom the thought of my poor baby boy being hooked up to machines in a hospital bed.  At this point we had already been at the doctors office for 2 hours, Brady was exhausted, he hadn't eaten or drank anything since early that morning when he had breakfast, and he was at his wits end.  I just couldn't even think straight.

He had literally just closed his eyes when the nurse said she was ready for him to place the catheter.  I already told the doctor there would likely be no urine since he had been here for so long without anything to drink.  My poor baby cried out when she put it in, and I tried with all my might to fight off tears.  Paul was rushing as fast as he could, but he wasn't back yet.  As I said, there was no urine.  He was bone dry.  So, we did all of this for nothing.  Finally Paul made it back, and when I saw him I just burst into tears again.  I was just praying silently that nothing was wrong with my baby and this would all be over soon.

We then went down to get his chest X-ray.  Paul went in with him since we just found out I was pregnant.  All along I'm feeling guilty that I found out I was pregnant on THIS day. I feel sorry for our future baby that we weren't able to celebrate like we should about the new life growing in my belly.  I feel guilty that I am bringing another baby into the world when THIS baby needs me so much right now.  I watched through the window as they strapped Brady to this little chair while Paul stood next to him trying to make him smile.  I could see the worry and fear on Paul's face.  He had been strong thus far, but when we walked out of that room he let the tears fall too.  We just felt so helpless and so bad that Brady was having to go through all this.

We met back in the doctor's office to talk about the x-ray.  Thankfully it was negative, no sign of pneumonia.  He was still going to have the radiologist look at it to be sure.  We have now been at the doctor's office for 3 hours.  Luckily Paul brought some lunch and some juice for Brady.  So, as we talked to the doctor I was able to feed him.  He told us the next step was to give him an antibiotic shot, and make a follow up appointment for the next day.  If his white count was not down, they would need to admit him to the hospital.  After already having a toe prick, a useless catheter, a chest x-ray, he now had to get a shot.  So we were sent to another room to wait yet again for the nurse to come in with the shot.

All 3 of us were worn out at this point.  I just wanted to get out of there as fast as we could.  The nurse gave him the shot, we made our follow up appointment, and booked it out of that office.  When we got home we immediately put Brady down for a nap.  All I could think about the rest of the day was how much I didn't want Brady to have to go in the hospital the next day.  Please Lord, help Brady to start feeling better.  Please, oh please, let his white count be down.

The doctor called that afternoon to check in on Brady and to see what kind of questions we had.  I had a million questions, but mainly just wanted to know if he would be ok.  I asked if he did get put in the hospital what kind of things they would be checking for.  He mentioned an infection on his heart, a blood infection, and the word that no parent wants to here, cancer.  He assured me that he really didn't believe Brady had any of these things, because other than the high fever and congestion he still acted like a normal, happy baby.  He didn't look sick.  I didn't tell Paul that he even mentioned that to me.  But, I knew regardless that thought crossed both of our minds.  I was trying not to even think about that.  I just knew he was going to be ok.  I prayed he would be ok.

It was a long night.  Brady woke up fussing around 3am.   We went to check on him, and he was burning up.  His fever was up to 103.2, and he had thrown up.  Paul wanted to take him to the ER, but we just called the doctor's office.  We gave him something to drink, some Motrin and put him back to bed.  He looked miserable and so tired.  I just couldn't put him through going to the ER after all we had been through.  I just knew in my heart he would be ok.  It was only a few more hours until our doctor's appointment.  Paul and I got back in bed, but neither of us slept a wink.  I just prayed harder than I ever have before that he would be ok.

The next morning came, and we went back to the doctor's office.  Today they sent the lab tech into our room to get the blood sample rather than making us go to the lab.  Again, all we could do was pray that we would get good news.  The doctor came in what seemed like hours later, and he said those lovely words, "his white count is down."  I breathed a HUGE sigh of relief.  Although he is still sick, that is proof he is getting better, and we don't have to go to the hospital.  The doctor said the first thing he thought about that morning was I hope Brady's white count is down today. He was given another shot, and we were on our way.

We repeated that routine for 2 more days.  Brady's blood count was creeping down each day, and by Saturday morning his fever had been gone for 24 hours and his white count was back to normal.  We never were sure what it was, but my best guess is strep.

I hope that this experience is just a distant memory soon.  It is hard to even talk about some of the scenarios running through our heads, but strep sounds great compared to the other scary things racing through our minds.  It is a reminder to never take anything for granted.  We are so so thankful for a healthy baby boy.  And, I can only hope the same for the baby that is growing in my belly.  God is so good, and we thank him for answering our prayers and helping Brady to heal.