Huckleberry part two.

When last we saw the not-so-brave mom of Huckleberry, she was sitting with her head between her knees in the hallway outside the exam room as they poked and prodded sweet Baby BooBoo for a blood draw and an IV.


He looked so tiny. So tiny, impossibly tiny on that exam room bed with a diaper wrapped around his little arm to keep it from bending. He was so precious, giving me a sweet, fragile little smile as I very nervously picked him up. The IV was dripping and the nebulizer was buzzing and I was freaking out. A different doctor came to examine him and then we were left for hours to ourselves worrying and comforting each other and our baby. Finally he rested, sleeping peacefully for an hour before they came in to poke and prod at him again.

Eventually they ordered a chest x-ray. Have you ever seen the iron maiden thing they put babies in for a chest x-ray? Once again I was not cool at all. I would have been tough, but Zach was there and he was being tough so I went into the waiting room and cried some more. After another long wait we were told that his lungs looked good, no pneumonia, just the same old Bronchiolitis and that they had decided against the lumbar puncture as he had no signs of meningitis. Hallelujah! We were released until we met the pediatric neurologist in the morning.

Dr. D met us at the front door of his closed office building at 9 am the day after Christmas, coffee in hand. He was McDreamy in person. Scrubs, coffee and an ego. The kind of ego you want a neurologist to have. He was friendly and reassuring, taking his time to explain everything and make us feel comfortable. He ordered the EEG immediately, but said we could wait on the MRI because Huck should be sedated and he wanted Huck’s lungs to heal.

A mere two days later Huck was back at the hospital, a million little electrodes attached to his head, taped down to a table, with Disney playing on the tv. It was a little  Clockwork Orange, if I am being honest. I crawled into the bed next to him, stroking his cheek and whispering shhhhhh, shhhhh boo boo, it’s okay. shhhhhh.

The woman running the eeg smiled and said “he likes that, it’s helping him” I saw definitive proof that a mother’s touch, a mother’s voice can calm her baby’s brainwaves. That part was really cool. I mean, we knew that…I wish we never saw it, but still it was cool.

And now we wait. We still wait. Dr D was out of town and now we are waiting on him to read the EEG and Huck to be well enough to have his MRI. Soon. He had some serious steroids and antibiotics this past week and they have really made a difference.

Limbo. That’s where we are, but I have to say that Huck seems fine! He is starting to show his smiley personality more and more. Yesterday he decided that sitting was a good idea! All I want in this world is my guys to be okay.  I sneak in and kiss Boss’ warm sleepy cheeks and think how amazing it is that he was once this tiny baby and how he plays drums and knows the alphabet. Who will Huckleberry be? I can’t wait to watch him grow.

(and yeah, I took a picture. whaddya want? I’m a blogger.)


3 thoughts on “Huckleberry part two.

  1. Aw, sweet Huck!!! He’s such a trooper. I hope he’s A-OK and will be given the all-clear. Look at him, he’s so sweet, I want to hug his chubby face off. And hugs to you too. Stay strong, Mama (crying doesn’t mean you’re not strong, you’re just his Mama through and through).

  2. You’re in my thoughts and prayers every day.. and all day! I love you and the babies so much.
    Babies are pretty’s to Huck and to every day that he grows stronger.

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