ImpostorMom

My son (I call him Booger, or Boog for short) has developed a fever since last night. This wouldn’t be noteworthy except that it’s his first one. It’s not that high (101.9 at the doc this morning), but my god was he burning up to the touch. He’s almost 8 months old so I feel like we did pretty well going that long with no high fevers, especially since he’s in daycare 5 days a week.

My husband and I were both pretty worried last night though because the fever kept climbing despite the Tylenol. I even brought him to bed with us which is something I never, ever do. (Not that I’m against co-sleeping, you do what works for your family and it just never worked for us) Anyway, being so worried about him and feeling so helpless to really do anything for him made me feel the weight of all this parenting business.

I look at him sometimes and I just want to protect him from all the hurt and sickness in the world. Maybe I need to be on the lookout for one of those protective bubbles as well. I know protecting him from everything is not possible and not even advisable but I just find myself feeling so afraid sometimes that something will happen to him. Then I think of my mother and I feel closer to her because I know she’s had these same experiences and feelings toward me. I guess it allows me to understand her need to protect me despite my need to be independent. (Then I feel like a complete ass for all the grief I gave her growing up!)

Booger being sick last night and today also reminded me of when I was 7 and in the hospital with a 105 degree fever. It was so high that they actually put me in a cold tub of water. It was totally traumatizing but I remember being completely delirious and out of it from the fever. My mother must have been beside herself. My son will be fine, I know this. In the grand scheme of things this is a tiny, minor little cold and I am thankful everyday that he is a healthy and happy little guy.