ER

Parenthood is incredible. It is pure joy to watch Dax grow, learn, and become his own little person. It can also be completely heartbreaking and terrifying. Last night we experienced the latter.

Dax has been fighting a cold for about a week and on Friday we decided to give him a low-key day with Grandma instead of the high-energy day he would have at daycare. After learning that one of his buddies had an ear infection and croup, I asked my mom to watch him closely for any signs that he had more than just a cold and not to hesitate to take him to the pediatrician. Fortunately, he was himself all day and, though he napped more than usual, he played and played and was nothing but a little hoarse when we picked him up.

Fast forward to 12:30 AM and he was no longer fine. His hoarse voice turned to an inability to cough, cry, or get words out, and his stuffy nose turned into very labored breathing. He seriously sounded more like a barking dog than a toddler and we knew it was not good. We immediately brought him to the bathroom and ran hot water to let him breathe in some steam and try to clear his airways. Once he calmed down he was a little better, but still struggled to get a breath in and sounded terrible.

After talking with the pediatrician's nurseline and a dispatcher at 911, we decided to bring him in to the ER to get checked. Dax wasn't doing much better and had moments that were much worse so we ended up calling 911 a second time and requesting paramedics. The police showed up first and talked with us while we waited for the ambulance. They arrived a few minutes later along with a fire truck (apparently standard protocol for any call with a child having trouble breathing). They asked to check Dax downstairs and I think there were at least 6 uniformed men in our living room.

The paramedic listened to Dax's lungs and they asked if we wanted them to bring him in to the hospital. We deferred to their expert opinion and the paramedic tending to our little guy said that he was going to get a lot worse if he spent much more time in the dry air. Thus, they recommended we ride with them and they started an oxygen mask with albuterol. Walking outside I realized why there were so many people in our house when I was bombarded by the wall of emergency vehicles and flashing lights.

Later, while driving to the ER, the paramedic was talking with the hospital staff so they could be ready for us and he responded to one of their questions with, "He's borderline." While I have no idea what the question was, "borderline" gave me the assurance that we had made the right decision and Dax was where he needed to be.

Upon our arrival, the hospital staff hooked him up with a sensor on his toe to monitor his vitals and switched his mask to epinephrine in hopes that the swelling in his airway would go down and he started to get better quickly. We learned much more than we ever hoped to about croup, waited awhile to ensure that Dax tolerated the medication he had received and remained stable, laughed while he perked back up and loudly serenaded the ER with Okee Dokee Brothers and Lumineers songs, and left a little after 3 AM exhausted, relieved, and looking forward to going back to bed.

It's a night we will be happy never to relive, but are so thankful and grateful for the knowledgeable people who responded both at our house and at the hospital. And we continue to enjoy parenthood, regardless of those excruciating lows.