I’d like to thank Life for a couple of weeks that were difficult to handle.

No, really, now that it is past, I am thankful for it. While in the midst of it…well, let’s just say that I was experiencing some other emotions.

It started when my husband left on a Friday for a week long trip with his Dad. They went to Louisiana to build homes in the areas destroyed by hurricane Katrina. They’ve done similar builds in the past and they’ve always been great trips. I was happy for him to go and excited for the time he would have with his dad.

Saturday went great.

Sunday, our youngest got sick. Really sick, really fast. As vomit was running down my leg and into my shoe (sorry to be so graphic, but you’ve got to get the mental picture) I guessed that we were dealing with a 24 hour stomach virus, and maybe, now that she’d puked out about 1/8th of her body weight, the worst of it was over.

When her temperature began to climb to levels that even had me, who is of the temperature's-are-a-good-thing mindset concerned, I knew I had guessed wrong. Neither of us slept much Sunday night, maybe four or five hours. And keep in mind that I’m an 8 hours of sleep at night person. Eight hours, minimum.

Monday was a little hard, but I have a really capable boy who managed for the most part on his own. I made a list of schoolwork for him, and he worked at it diligently, bringing me the parts he needed help with or the books I needed to listen to him read aloud. I sat in the rocking chair, cajoling sips of fluids into the sick one, putting on blankets or cold packs, as her temperature or chilling indicated. But still, I was in good spirits, even teasing my husband when he called to check in, about how much snuggling time I was getting that he was missing out on.

Monday night was worse. The temperature peaked at 1 a.m. I think I got four or five hours of sleep. Actually, I wasn’t thinking much.

Tuesday was much the same as Monday, except for calls to the doctor on guidelines to mange this, and calls to the naturopathic doctor for some holistic remedies.

Tuesday night was the worst. At midnight, neither sick little girl nor I had been to bed. At about 12:30, she started doing the strangest things. She may have been delusional because of the fevers. She may have been proving the homeopathic remedy. She may have been trying to clear the copious amounts of mucous in her nose and throat. Whatever she was doing, it scared the crap out of me. I called my best girlfriend in tears (she lives 2 hours away). I didn’t know if I should take her to the emergency room, I didn’t know who to wake up to come watch my little boy. I was beyond exhausted, I was not thinking straight, I was running on adrenaline. My girlfriend was the best; she made some calls for me, she got me through it. I think we finally got some sleep at 2 a.m.

On Wednesday, I caved, and made phone calls to local friends. My one friend told me later that I scared her a bit, since I couldn’t get more than a couple of words out a time without dissolving into tears, and that is very much not like me. Within two hours I had two people come by to pray for us and offer support, a ride to classes followed by all day babysitting for my boy and dinner delivered that would last us for two nights. My extra-special girlfriend Kelly volunteered to stay the night on so I could sleep uninterrupted for the first half, knowing that someone was awake listening for my little sickie to cry out. She took the first shift, and I took the second, and I finally got some sleep.

I have some amazing, wonderful friends. They checked in frequently, they prayed, they got me through it. What would I have done without them? I felt so blessed, I felt cared for, and I felt….embarrassed.

Yep, embarrassed.

Embarrassed to be asking for help. Embarrassed that I couldn’t handle this situation on my own. Was I not prepared enough? Had I lost my independence? Was I not a good enough mom? What mistakes did I make? I poured all this out, along with a bucketful of tears, to one of my friends that came over to check on me.

No parent is ever prepared for having a child be ill, she said. It strikes fear in every parent’s heart. And being a nurse, well, maybe… she said delicately, maybe it gave me a little too much information, since most parents don’t consider viral meningitis when their child has a fever. No, I had not lost my independence, she reassured, I’d only lost my rational abilities because I’d lost so much sleep. That fact that I was so worried proved I was a great mom, she insisted. And the only mistake I’d made was to not call for some help earlier, she asserted.

Call earlier? No way. I should have been able to handle this. It was such a little thing compared to what some people have to deal with. I mean, what about parents whose kids are seriously ill? What about the pioneers who managed without doctors to call to reassure them? What about mothers in war torn countries who have no motrin to give or even water to cool their babies with? They all handle their situations!

You. Are. Not. Rational. My friend told me this very slowly. You. Need. Sleep.
Listen, she said. Haven’t you stepped up for people in the past? If you had a friend going through this, wouldn’t you be upset if she didn’t call you? Wouldn’t you help her?

Yes, yes, and yes.

And, little did I know how soon that would be.