When to say, "Enough."

The internet and television make parents think that their children are just going to up and die at any moment. Reckless people that give into pseudoscience bullshit stop vaccinating their kids, and suddenly we are all at risk again. Apparently, children also shouldn't go to sleepovers anymore because pedophiles. If your kids get too much screen time they will get too fat and too stupid to function in normal society. Yet, if your kids don't get enough screen time, they won't be able to function in society. Don't give them peanuts, eggs, milk, or honey until they are one or they could have a severe allergic reaction and possibly die.

The list of things you shouldn't let your children do is daunting, and at times it seems to outweigh the list of things you should let your children do. Even when you think something is okay, someone will tell you you're doing it wrong. When you think something is wrong, someone will tell you everything is okay.

We've got this kid, you see... a girl child. She is the oldest. We call her Sass, because she is all fire and sassy. She is also sweet, and smart as a whip; hilarious on accident, and loves to please. Sass gets sick a lot. She gets these wicked fevers, congestion, and coughs. Then, out of no where, she will throw up. This happens basically every month... I think the longest she has gone between sicknesses was 2 months. Sass started going to daycare when she was 1 1/2 or 2-years-old. She has done two years of preschool, and we are half way through Kindergarten... This month, February, she has been sick for three weeks. Two different fevers, the same congestion and cough, and one vomiting episode.

I am not trying to sensationalize her illnesses - honestly, for a long time, we really believed the saying "she is just building her immunities". Yet, this month was our breaking point - when do you say "Enough" and start asking questions? When is okay to start worrying that there is something wrong? I never wanted to be that mom, constantly calling the pediatrician and asking about a cough or a fever. The first time I took her to see her doctor, a different one than she sees now, the doctor told me it's completely normal for her to get sick around ten times a year as they transition into school age.

Fine. I waited. Two years later, and here we are.

Monday, I took her to the E.R., because of that fever. That damnable fever. The E.R. doctor is checking her over, looks up from his stethoscope, and asks, "She has a heart murmur?" I say, "Well, they told me when she was a littler girl that it was faint and would go away." He moves the stethoscope, listens again. Moves it again, listens. Leans her forward, listens again. Deep breath, listens again. Breath out, hold it, listens again.

I cannot even begin to express the way I felt during this. Obvious to me is the fact that this murmur is not faint - has not gone away as, basically, promised. Even before I hop on Google, I am an utter basket case. That's kind of my jam, being a basket case. I excel at it really. Every worse case scenario is running through my head as the logical side of my brain is trying desperately to rein the rest of me. I start doing that smile at the doctor... you know the one. That one where your face feels really tight, and your head starts to hurt, and it looks like maybe you have to poop?.... He discharged us with the instructions to see her primary care doctor as soon as we can so the diastolic murmur can be assessed.

Sass got to see her amazing, wonderful, spectacular pediatrician yesterday. He said he definitely wants to send her out to see cardiology and immunology. As far as E.R. doctors go, he said we kind of hit the jackpot - we got one that actually is good at assessing pediatric patients. He trusts his judgement. He said that he felt like he heard a systolic murmur, but that it is in an abnormal place. He said that just because the E.R. doctor hear a diastolic murmur and he is not hearing it now, does not mean it was a misdiagnosis. It means we need more information, and information from and by a specialist.

Systolic murmurs are usually innocent and really not that big of an issue. Diastolic murmurs are usually pathological and really not that good to have. Can you guess which one we are hoping for? There are also instants where hearts make extra sounds. One extra sound is considered innocent, and two is considered bad. Can you guess which one we are hoping for?

The scariest thing that has ever happened to me, in my entire life, is that I had kids. Seriously. I made three people in this body. Made. Them. My body literally housed, nourished, and birthed people. A large part of my soul walks around inside another person, and I have no control over it anymore. Sass is sick and gets sick too much for my peace of mind.

I am desperately trying to remain calm. To not freak the fuck out, like I want to. I want to rage, and shout at God "Why?!?!?!". But, I haven't. Not yet. We don't know anything yet. Not really. We know that someone else needs to look at her - two special people that know their fields and will tell us exactly what the issue is. We know that Sass has an amazing primary care doctor, and that he is smart enough to know she needs just a little bit more than he can offer. We know that she is still full of sassy fire, she is still smart as a whip, and she still is hilarious on accident.

What do I want to say to you? I want to say that being the squeaky wheel is okay, because someone will pay attention to you. I want to say that loving your children, the people you made, is a good thing. A very good thing. I want to say pray for me. Send me your good thoughts, your warm fuzzies, your hugs and kisses. I want to say that it is okay to say you've had enough.