Saturday, March 13, 2010

the worst

I think one of the worst things that comes with being a parent, is having to watch your children suffer. Whether it be from a skinned up knee, a case of the 24 hour flu, or listening as they recount how their feelings were hurt earlier that day. As parents, we have an inherent desire to put our arms around our children and protect them...protect them from harm, protect them from danger, protect them from pain and discomfort...and of course, to protect them from ever getting their heart broken.


For as long as I can remember - starting when she was just months old, in fact - Ruby has suffered with respiratory problems...mainly croup. I can't even count the number of times we have awoken in the night to the familiar sound of a barking seal...followed by frantic gasps for air. This year alone, this infection has plagued her (us) 5 times. And last night was no less scary. In fact, in some ways, it was a lot more scary. We have a nebulizer, coupled with a year supply of little 3 ml vials of Albuterol Sulfate. We keep them in a container under our bed so that we can get to them easily and quickly if need be. It never ceases to amaze me how quick an attack can come on. Anyone whose child suffers with frequent bouts of croup will understand when I say that on many occasions, we have put Ruby to bed in great spirits - without so much as a runny nose - only to have her wake within 10 minutes...coughing...barking...crying...and gasping. As scary as it is, and as terrible as it always sounds, I know that we are well equipped with the supplies needed to provide quick relief, so I never worry too much. What made last night almost unbearable, however, was Ruby's own panic-stricken state. In between each convulsion for air, she would cry in trepidation I can't breathe! The more we tried to calm her down, the more frantic she became, contributing even more to the struggle for breath. We tried to explain to her between the yelling and flailing limbs, that if she would just calm down and take the breathing treatment - in a matter of seconds - it would become easier. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she struggled for air. That was the hardest part. We knew she would be OK. We knew that we had all the resources to make her feel better, but trying to get her to relax, to believe us and trust us...that was the hardest, saddest part of all. I don't know how it finally happened, but after what seemed an eternity, she finally relaxed long enough for the bronchodilator to work it's magic, and within minutes...she was fast asleep in John's arms. The struggle was finally over.

And then I went crazy with the camera.


7 comments:

The Heaps said...

Poor sweet Ruby! Hope she's doing better.

Ethel Carola Aredes said...

uhy amiga que noche tubieron que pasar como padre siempre tenemos que estar preparados para noches asi
amiga espero que tu pequeña mejore pronto

Me said...

Know exactly how she feels (always had croup--and have asthma now).
Getting "almost" pneumonia this last December--scary.

Plus my nephew has an interstitial lung disease--is in oxygen almost 24/7. In and out of hospital his first year. His sister has asthma and croup as well.

Crazy hard--harder for my sis (their momma)---but with all the kiddos I've worked with who have disabilities and health issues-luckily I was "well trained" in getting Mr. Wes to calm down when I've had to assist.

Praying for you and Miss Ruby!

Rachel said...

Poor Little Ruby. I hope she is doing better.

diana said...

oh, yuck. poor girl.

get well soon, ruby!

nevedobson said...

i agree... there is NOTHING worse than seeing your baby sick or sad... a boy was mean to emmi at the park the other day and i saw her chin quiver and my heart BROKE as she ran over to me crying. oh how i wish i could shield any pain or discomfort from that little munchkin. emmi had bronchiolitis last year and we had to use the breathing machine a few times too... thank heavens for those breathing machines. they work magic!

Margaret said...

This really touched me today, and I posted about it on my blog, with a link to this post of yours.

http://itgoesalittlesomethinglikethis.blogspot.com/2010/05/this-really-touched-me-today.html

I hope that's ok, and would be fine with deleting the link to your blog if you would prefer.

I have a cousin who needed breathing treatments as well. Ruby is lucky, and blessed, to have you.