Hi, I’m Tara.

What started out as a private blog to document our adoption journey has evolved into my journey through therapy, spiritual awakening and whatever I feel like writing. Without our struggles to build a family, I’m not sure I’d be waking up, and for that I’m grateful.

The Toe

Let's start from the beginning:


Baby Z wakes up with a fever and congestion. He's lethargic and sleeps most of the day. We don't think much of it, other than it's a fever and congestion, and who gets to stay home from work on Monday? I decide to.


Baby Z wakes up with a fever, less congestion, and a little bit more alert. At 8:30am, I shift his position on my lap and notice it: A swollen red big toe. My thought process, "Huh, that looks weird, I should probably make an appointment at the doctor's office". Said appointment is made for the afternoon.

We go to the appointment with the bare essentials: whatever happens to be in the diaper bag at the time, my wallet and phone. The doctor takes one look at the toe and freaks the f-ck out.  As much as doctors freak the f-ck out that is...half an hour later, I'm driving to the ER and the doctor's office is calling ahead to tell them I'm coming. On the way, I call S, tell him to pick up X, take him to swimming lessons as planned, and I'll let him know what's going on when I know. In the ER, they are crazy fast. So fast I can't get a word in, the doctor swoops in, looks at the toe, says he'll need IV antibiotics and swoops out. They draw blood, take a strep culture, take X-rays.

The doctor swoops back in, lances the toe, drains it, takes a sample of the fluid and explains that Baby Z is going to need IV antibiotics. He swoops back out. The nurses swoop back and struggle to get an IV in his chubby hand. Between dehydration and baby fat, it’s a long, drawn out and painful process with much screaming and apologizing.  They draw blood for testing, get the IV set up and hand Baby Z to me telling me to get comfortable, it’s going to take about an hour between the antibiotic infusion and the saline drip. I sit on the bed with Baby Z and after 5 minutes, realize I have to pee. Fantastic. So, I did what any sane person would do, grabbed a large size glove and….I don’t need to describe it do I?  (obviously, I could have called the nurse and asked her to hold Baby Z while I used the restroom, but my head was spinning off it’s axis mmmkay?) 

Before the infusion is over, the doctor swoops back in, says Baby Z’s white cell count is too high and he’s being admitted to the hospital. I f-cking knew it. I text S, but he’s in the middle of a potty emergency with X and doesn’t exactly understand what I’m telling him. He carries on with the swimming lesson plan.

Baby Z and I get wheeled to his room, I meet the nurse and the hospital doctor and answer a shit-ton of questions. I hear “staph” or “strep” and 24-48 hours.  Or something. Now I’m starving because I haven’t eaten in 7 hours. After the nurses and doctor have poked at Baby Z some more and pissed him off, I manage to calm him down and order food. Meanwhile, S is enjoying dinner with X, and I call him to tell him that he needs to bring me a bunch of crap so I can spend the night. He and X hurry through dinner, gather up some clothes and stuff and come to the hospital for a quick visit before going home way past X’s bedtime. As you may imagine, the night pretty much sucked with nurses coming in every few hours to take vitals and set up the infusion for the antibiotic.  I didn’t get a whole lot of sleep. But, I did watch Maleficent, and I recommend it. Or my addled brain liked it, not sure which. Naw, I liked it, it was pretty bad-ass.


Improvement for Baby Z, but not enough to go home earning him one more nights stay. He has a staph infection, they aren't sure yet if it's the good kind or the bad kind. (All bad if you ask me) He pretty much hates all the nurses and it really sucks when they have to draw blood for testing. Cute chubby babies do not make for easy pokes. In the afternoon I trade places with S so he can spend the night on the shitty pull out couch being woken up every few hours by nurses pissing off Baby Z. 

X is pretty good through all of this, and doesn't complain (much) when I promise him mac n'cheese but the bbq place I chose to get dinner from is out. We eat dinner with S and Baby Z who is showing lots more personality at this point then trundle off to home where we both fall asleep at 8:30pm. 



It's the good kind of staph and everything is looking good! Baby Z gets discharged but we don't leave the hospital until 4pm because the pharmacy is so damn slow getting his oral meds filled. I trade with S at about 1pm and wait around for the meds while Baby Z naps, then wakes up ready to go, climbing on everything and getting really mad at me when I give up and put him back in the crib. (Sorry kiddo, can't play with the IV pole). Once we're home, S passes out at 8:30pm and I stay up way too late on adrenaline and online shopping. Wonder what's coming in the mail?  X is less easy to deal with and ends up sleeping in our bed (because he is allowed to sleep in it when one of us is gone, and in general he always wants to sleep in out bed and it's still a massive battle....). Baby Z has his appetite back and wakes up a couple times to eat. Sheesh. 

All is well now, but I'm not entirely sure where my week has gone. :/ 




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