The Worst Mother's Day Ever

The clock shows 4:00am, but I'm not tired. For the last hour, I have been having flashbacks from last year's Mother's Day. It was spent in a hospital listening to my son scream while they attempted to place an IV. Five times they tried. Five. One whole hand. It was how old he was turning in less than a week.

Mother's Day in the ER at
Seattle Children's 2019.

I remember Ketcher's skin was burning and swelling. I remember that morning having to cut his little cotton Paw Patrol pajama T-shirt off of him because it was hurting his skin. I remember sleeping at the end of his hospital bed that night, not being able to touch him because he was in so much pain, but wanting to be right there in case he woke up and was scared. I remember crying because I couldn't hug him and that's all a mom wants to do when her kids are sick and scared. 

It started on a Thursday, he was playing in the dirt outside our apartment in Seattle. That night he looked like he had a little sunburn on his neck, even though I knew I put sunblock on him. On Friday his face and neck looked like a normal sunburn.  On Saturday I took him to Seattle Children's Hospital because he started looking sunburnt in places that had not been exposed to the sun. They sent us home thinking it was an allergic reaction to the lotion. 

On Sunday, Mother's Day, his face was swollen and red. Pus came out of his eyes instead of tears. His clothes were hurting him. I couldn't pick him up, or pull his shirt over his head, or hug him. All four of us arrived at the hospital together not realizing we were going to spend the whole day in a cramped ER room waiting for a diagnosis. 

The first time they tried placing the IV, I held him on my lap. He was screaming and I was instructed to hold his arms down. Pain shot through him every time his skin was touched and they were poking him over and over. "Mommy don't let them hurt me!" Tears ran down my face. I kept whispering "It's okay. It's okay." I choked down my sobs. "MOMMY MAKE THEM STOP HURTING ME!"

Those words will stay with me forever. I failed him that day. When they couldn't get the IV in I told Dan I couldn't be in there when they did a second attempt. I was not the strong stoic parent he needed. I was crying and that was probably adding to his fear. I took Kenzie and went to the waiting room so she could color while they tried again... and again... and again. 

I teach my kids that mistakes are great. Mistakes are how we learn and get better. I make a lot of mistakes as a parent, but not being there for him when he needed me will haunt me. Even though Ketch was 4 years old, he communicated very clearly. That day when he woke up, after they finally placed the IV, he asked  "Mommy I needed you, why weren't you there?"  

Passed out after multiple IV attempts.

That was a sucker punch to the gut and I deserved it. There was no good answer. All I could say was that I was sorry and I needed to take Kenzie out of the room while they tried again. That was true, but I should have been with him. 

He was quarantined after they gave the diagnosis of Staph Scalded Skin Syndrome. Kenzie was no longer allowed to be in the room. One parent would be home with her and the other parent would stay with Ketch. Dan and I would meet at the hospital room door, debrief, and then change shifts. 

Monday night he was improving but he couldn't sleep. His skin was still too painful to touch. Around midnight, after the nurse came to check on him, he was standing up at the edge of his bed, he looked at me through narrowed eyes. Seething anger radiated and with a sinister growl he said. "YOU DID THIS TO ME!" 

I was shocked and frankly, scared. His mellow, happy-go-lucky temperament was completely stripped away leaving him raw and indignant. 

Quietly, with a shaky voice I said "This happened. No one did this "to" you. Sometimes things just happen." 

"YOU LET ME PLAY OUTSIDE. I WAS WITH YOU WHEN THIS HAPPENED!" 

Tears were pouring down my cheeks again. I hadn't slept in 30+ hours. How do you rationalize with a sleep-deprived 4-year-old? You don't. 

He saw my tears, heard a weak apology, and then he laid back down. "I'm just tired." He sighed. I spent the rest of that night terrified that our relationship had completely come apart at the seams. It was all my fault and he knew it.  

His skin started peeling as the burn went away.

The next morning I had a plan. A few weeks prior to this, I had just devoured the book "The Body Keeps the Score" by Bessel Van Der Kolk. (This book is absolutely outstanding if you are interested in psychology, PTSD, and trauma.) Psychological trauma from an illness or hospital stay is actually common. Children need to process trauma just like adults do in order to understand it and move forward. Ketch was too young to be able to understand these giant feelings he was having. He needed a professional to help him through this.  

Seattle Children's Hospital has child psychologists and counselors on call. When the morning nurse finished her checkup I followed her out to the hallway and told her we needed someone to come talk to my son.  I also told the doctor, the second nurse, and Dan who sent me home as soon he could that day. I am sure it was very clear that I was a complete mess.  It was Tuesday and I hadn't slept since Saturday night. 

That afternoon someone came and played with Ketcher. They gave him a stuffed bear and had him place his own IV. He was also feeling much better and we were scheduled to be released that night. When I came back up to the hospital after cleaning the apartment - instead of sleeping - he was back to his usual bubbly self. "Mommy the bear has an IV like me!!! See?! I'm not scared of it anymore!" 

Last day in the hospital.

He wasn't scared. He wasn't angry. I was relieved and elated! 

We had to pick up medicine at the hospital pharmacy before we went home. He was smiling and dancing around in his little Mickey Mouse bathrobe and slippers, pointing out all the animals painted in every hallway and corridor. I breathed a sigh of relief as we wound our way around the hospital. I needed some sleep but I needed something else more.  

After what felt like days, weeks, and months... I could hug him again.  I lifted him up and hugged him until he told me to stop. He was eager to keep looking for new animal murals. 

Today there will be no Mother's Day Brunch. There will be no meeting for drinks or laughing with friends. There will be no movie theater, mall, or bookstore. There will be no monitors beeping, or doctors poking. There will be no tears from fear, hospital room debriefing, or pain. We will be stuck inside, sheltered from the cold and COVID. 

This Mother's Day the four of us will be quarantined together. We are healthy, happy, and safe. 

Best of all, today I get to hug my babies all day.

This was taken a few days ago. He's a ham.