Wednesday, July 25, 2007

We All Have Nights Like This, I Know...

1 am...the dog is barking upstairs... Wait...we don't have a dog (Rest In Peace, best buddy)... Okay, the kid is barking upstairs. Gasping, wheezing, textbook barking-like-a-seal croup. Crap. Shower on, blast steam...nearly fall asleep holding Barking Child on my lap, on the toilet. Glamorous. Coughing subsides, we retire to the guest room and cuddle up in the big bed, so Daddy can get some sleep. All is peaceful, I dream of a tree house and Halloween. 3am...phone rings. It's my brother...they are on their way to the hospital...Renee's water has broke, she feels "weird." Not good...she is just 28 weeks pregnant. My brother instructs me to go over to my parents and wake them, they are not answering their phone. I sleepily clamber across the neighbor's yard...the street is silent and dark. I ring the doorbell, call from my cell...finally the house comes to life and a pot of coffee is made. At home, I shower ("Wash the croup away," my husband lovingly demands). 4:55 am and I am on my way to the hospital...I don't even know why, but I just go... Wow...30 minutes later, I've blown down the entire main line, not one red light... Renee is okay, the baby is okay. She has some fluid left and they are pumping her with steroids for the baby's lungs. She will remain in the hospital until the baby is born...could be (but, shouldn't be) any day, could be six weeks (at which point, the lungs will be developed & they will remove the little, tiny guy by C-Section). Imagine 6 weeks of bed rest. Complete bed rest...she cannot even get up to pee. She is in the best possible hands. Two floors down, I visit Grandpop. He looks skinny and cute, unshaven. Today my dad & his other 2 children will tell him about his cancer. The sun is up, I come home to relieve Jeff so he can go to work (layoffs today...not a good time to be out for a family emergency...) My dad calls. "Renee is sleeping. Grandpop's prognosis is excellent...the doctors hope for a full recovery." Surgery, "a little chemo." My littly boy wakes, crusty-nosed, groggy & froggy sounding. "It's a sunny day mom, " he croaks, "Let's go to the beach." I wish...

1 comment:

Frank Brigandi said...

very Euro living next to your parents, traditional....cool.
I feel lucky, we had no issues with the kids when they were little, (the youngest is 12 now..) Our biggest worry was Jen (Middle child.. yeah) going outside to play in the middle of the night, or trying to keep her from running around screaming all of the time....