the Easter that wasn't
I had fun doing Nico's Easter basket this year, even though almost everything was bought on a whim at Target for around $20 total. I had planned to add some eggs with bunny grahams and goldfish crackers, but as I was putting it all together on Saturday night I changed my mind and didn't add any treats at all. He already had a little bit of candy from the two egg hunts we'd already gone to and my family has a big egg hunt for the kids before Easter dinner, too. Jen suggested on Twitter that we all write Easter basket posts so we can look at each other's next year for ideas, so I took lots of pictures as I was putting it together. I'll write that post, too, but it should probably be separate from this one for reasons that will become clear in a moment.
Here's Nico at 8:00 AM Sunday digging into his loot:
He put one of those clips on Nico's finger and plugged him into the machine. I watched his pulse ox number drop from 94 to 92 to 88. The nurse frowned at the readout and said, "I don't think that's fitting him very well. We need to do that again, because if that's right he's going straight back." He dug out a smaller finger-reader that he taped onto Nico's tiny finger and plugged him back in, only to get the same number again. While MB and I nattered on trying to keep Nico from flipping out ("Look, your finger has a red light! It's just like a siren! And that cord looks kind of like the robot they build on I Spy, doesn't it?") the nurse went to the door and told the intake nurse that Nico was getting a room. She seemed a little surprised but he was insistent and bless him for that, seriously. "Sorry to be pushy," he told her, "but I want that room. He's going back right now." That was the worst moment for me as far as feeling afraid, I think. I felt a spike of fear in my stomach that maybe this was not just bad but really bad.
They took us back to a room and put a tiny oxygen mask on Nico's face. Within an hour of arriving they'd given Nico a breathing treatment and ordered a chest X-ray to check for pneumonia. After that there was a lot of waiting because they were so backed up. But Nico did much better after using the nebulizer, so we sat on his bed and read the books I'd tossed into my purse before we left the house. By 8:00 I really needed to pump for Elliott and there was no telling how much longer we'd have to wait, so as much as I hated to leave, I called my dad to come pick me up. MB assured me they'd be fine without me and he was right, but walking out of that ER and leaving my first baby behind so I could go take care of my second baby was really hard.
By the time I finished pumping around 8:45, Nico had been x-rayed and given a steroid shot in his tiny butt. Reportedly he didn't cry at all, only announced "I'm not crying! I'm being really brave!" (Shut up, I just have something in my eye.) Word was that they wanted to wait and see how his pulse ox levels were after a second breathing treatment, and that if they weren't good enough he'd have to spend the night. I sent my mom home at 9:45, figuring if I did have to take pajamas and toothbrushes over to the hospital, I could always just pack Elliott along with me. The doctor read the X-ray and said no pneumonia. We waited some more. Finally, at 10:30, MB texted me to say they were coming home. The ER doctor didn't think he had croup but that he had contracted a bacterial infection. (This morning his pediatrician disagreed and said she thinks it is croup, though it could be symptoms of him developing asthma.)
These certainly aren't the Easter photos I planned to take or the Easter stories I thought I'd be telling. I never dressed the boys in cute outfits and tried valiantly to get a photo of them together. There's no cute picture of Nico hunting eggs in the grass or holding up his Easter basket with a skeptical look on his face. But it's okay, really, because he's fine. He's going to be fine, and that's the only thing that matters.