Impetigo Nightmare

Sunday morning arrived and I was excited to get out of the house. {As a stay at home mom...I don't get out much.} We arrived at church with happiness in our hearts.  All the kids had had a great Saturday at their Maw Maw's house the night before and had slept wonderfully {not a cranky bone in their bodies.}  The kids were happy and ready to go.  Tim and I dropped off the kids to their classes but my youngest for the first time ever cried when I put him down to play.  He is a year old so I knew this time was coming and quickly set him up with a snack and went on my way to service.  Relieved that I had survived without crying myself.  {Dropping off your crying baby to nursery is tough stuff folks.} 

Tim and I went to service and Sunday school and afterward went to go pick up our little people from their classes.  J.J. was excited to show us his papers from class and Joy was giddy from all the excitement of playing with her friends.  When we went to go pick up Gabe he was sleepy and his teacher was holding him as he sucked on his thumb.  His little nose was crusty and his teacher explained that she attempted to wipe his nose but he was just to fussy to allow it.  {No big there, my kid is a tough stubborn cookie when it comes to getting his nose wiped.}  I took my little man from his teacher's arms and a little alarm went off in my head as I kissed his forehead.  Fever.  This was followed by....

"Oh no, what is wrong?  Why does he have a fever?  How did he get sick?  Did his teacher just say he slept for thirty minutes?  That is weird.  He NEVER sleeps anywhere but home.  He is so quiet.  Oh no...if he has a fever that means he has exposed other babies.  I am that mom.  Crap.  Okay...plan...get home...take his temp...tylenol...no motrin that works better...feed him...put him down for a nap...reassess your ability as a mother....I am going to need a gallon jug of hand sanitizer."

I followed the plan when I got home and got little man down to a diaper.  I noticed when I took off his shoes that the mosquito bite that he gotten the night before on his foot had turned into a rash.  

This was followed by....

"Why does it have to be the weekend?  A rash...really?  E.R.?  No...its just a rash.  I can call the doctor in the morning.  Monday morning 8am is calling my name."

As the evening progressed my sweet baby boy became covered in bumps on his hands, feet,bottom and face.  It was a very long night.  My poor guy was so uncomfortable and it was just the beginning.  

8 am on Monday morning arrived and I called to get my little man into to see our wonderful nurse practitioner, Julianne.  Our appointment time arrived and she gave the diagnosis.  Not only did my little man have a virus but he also had impetigo.  

How do you say that again?  

Thankfully the impetigo can be treated with 10 days of antibiotics.  The virus would just have to run its course.  I was prepared.  I could do this.  I have done sick babies before.  I have got this. 

It is now day five and I don't got this.  Yesterday, we were back at the doctors office because my son's rash was not following protocol.  {My kids rarely do when it comes to illness.}  I just thought his little body was covered on night one of this junk but no night three proved me wrong. 

These sores/blisters can also be found on his hands,arms, legs and bottom.  

My son was miserable.  I was feeling like a failure.  My baby boy was not getting better despite all my efforts.  My efforts weren't good enough.  I am no doctor/nurse.  As I held my crying baby in the doctor's office waiting for the test results of his blood work the feelings of failure crept to the surface.  I was alone with my crying baby who I couldn't make feel better.  No amount of love or motrin was working.  His blood test revealed that we at least didn't need to worry and that the antibiotics were going to do their job. It would just take longer than expected.  I left the doctor's office feeling defeated.  The doctors/nurses had done their job well and I was left to finish it.  

We arrived home and I gave my little man another round of antibiotics and laid him down for a nap.  I dropped on the couch exhausted from a long morning {few days} and cried.  I was a failure.  If I just had given him more cold meds, used more lysol, given him his allergy meds every night instead of forgetting ...maybe he wouldn't be sick right now.  I played my husband's words back in my head from a conversation we had had that morning. 

"You are a great mom.  If you were a failure you wouldn't be standing in a doctor's office right now but at home letting him suffer.  There isn't much you can do for a cold so he would have gotten sick anyway.  You are not a failure."

Despite his words my heart still felt like I was failing my little one.  After days of my little guy crying when he was awake and only sleeping after his dose of pain relief meds kicked in...I was ready to see some results.  Something that showed that he would get better.  

As I sat there on the couch I went through all the "what ifs..."  and the "Woulda coulda shouldas...."  and a gentle whisper in my spirit asked me to stop.  His Word reveals that...

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

Psalm 147:3 ESV

The verse above is speaking about spiritual wounds but the passage goes onto speak of His abundant power.

"Great is our Lord, and abundant in power;

his understanding is beyond measure."

Psalm 147:5 ESV

God heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.  He is abundant in power and his understanding beyond measure.  He can heal my broken heart.  He can whisper his truth that I am not a failure but His fearfully and wonderfully made daughter.  His power can heal my sweet little man from this awful virus and infection.  He promises to be the strength for His people.  

My little one is still sick but his rash doesn't look worse than it did yesterday.  For the first time in five days he sat in his high chair to eat puffs. I will take that as a sign that we are on our way to a healthy little man.  It is His job to finish.  Not mine. 

Even though we are still in the midst of this yucky sickness...He is our saving refuge.