Maile was admitted to the hospital on Friday night with a low-grade fever. We weren't terribly worried about it at first. We thought Kaiser would tell us to give her a dose of Tylenol. But apparently *newborns are never supposed to have a fever*. And now I understand why. The younger the baby, the higher the risk that a small, insignificant fever turns bad...and quickly. The chance of a newborn crashing hard and fast is significantly reduced with every month the new life has under its belt. Maile's fever was 100.6 and the generally accepted "freak out temp" for a 25 day old is 100.3. So our level of worry jumped like crazy once the docs started all the tests to rule out the possibility of serious illness. She had blood taken, catheter for a U/A, spinal tap, EKG. She was an amazing trooper.
I learned a lot about kids. A lot about hospitals. A lot about myself.
There's nothing appealing about staying with your 25 day old baby in the hospital. Not intriguing in the least is the frustration, concern, anxiety, helplessness, nor the lousy cot they gave me to sleep on or the sterile metal crib for Maile.
Never has "fearfully and wonderfully made" had more meaning. Fearfully made? This complex body, full of separate but interdependent parts designed to function together and perform amazing feats to sustain life is both strong and fragile. It's fear inducing, really, for my puny mind. As I attempt to have some say in the fate of my daughter the reality that I, in fact, have no control over any of it is overwhelming. I've been set in charge over her care and upbringing but her health is out of my hands. It's really difficult to make the mental switch between the things that are my job as her mom and the things that I can only pray about. And that brings fear. It's almost always a struggle to trust in someone else...especially in new, unprooven situations. And for me, that struggle produces fear. Fear that I'm still working through, even though we're home and Maile's healthy.
At the same time, I know the trial of the weekend could have been much much worse. After all, we did have a private room for our 72 hour stay at the hospital. Not to mention 2 amazing nurses, family that helped us hold our life togther, and in the end, bringing home a healthy baby with our greater appreciation for the fragility and blessing of life and fear in the awesome Creator of it.
