Photo by: Shutterstock

Please Call 911!

by Katia of "IAMTHEMILK"
Photo by: Shutterstock

Last week, 8 Month Old decided it was time to take us to the ER. After a four hour wait, he was diagnosed with a bad temper. D-effing-UH.

7 p.m. – 3 Year Old’s Bedroom:

Original Life Expectancy Me: C’mon, we have to finish brushing our teeth. Rinse, rinse, rinse and spit. Rinse, rinse, rinse and spit.

Resigned 3 Year Old: (Blue birds are circling the air, holding his cup and fluttering about, as a chipmunk hands him his toothbrush) Mmmmmmmmmmm…

In the meantime, darkness is brewing downstairs. 8 Month Old’s gotten hold of a flute and he is chewing on it. The Babysitter pulls it right out of his mouth. A short, but passionate battle ensues. And then…

Calm, Experienced Mature Babysitter: KATIA, KATIA, CALL 911! KATIA, CALL 911! DANIEL! DANIEL!!!!

New Life Expectancy Me: (pushing 3 Year Old off my lap, water spilling out of his mouth, birds escaping, chipmunk drinking from a puddle on the floor) I’MMM COMING!!!!!!!!!

I gallop down the stairs, hearing 8 Month Old’s name called out repeatedly and no sound from my baby, carrying rejuvenated 3 Year Old, who after the initial scare (of 3 seconds ago), is now totally psyched to find out what sort of an adventure is unfolding in our living room.

Although still non-responsive but definitely awake, 8 Month Old (looking pale and a little blue) is sitting in babysitter’s lap, staring blankly. I call 911, and in response to the customer service-y “What is your emergency today?” I bleat, “My behehehehehe-beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee,” and then have a three-way conversation with the Babysitter who is describing how 8 Month Old got very upset, stiffened up and stopped breathing. The person on the phone says words like “seizure,” while medically-curious 3 Year Old excitedly interrupts me with polite – yet insistent – “excuse me!” demands to find out what the ‘doctor’ is telling me.

8 Month Old is snapping out of it quickly. Paramedics show up. 3 Year Old asks why their latexed hands are blue, discusses youghurt, and gets a tour of the ambulance. I depart with slightly confused, but visibly cheerful and energetic 8 Month Old.

1 a.m. – Hospital:

ER Doctor at the Hospital for Sick Children: Some babies just do this. They get so angry and don’t know how to express it, so they hold their breath until they turn blue. Don’t worry, Baby always knows when to stop. It’s not dangerous.

When I call 36 Year Old for the 50th time since he replaced me at the hospital, he tells me this.

Well, colour me not blue, and call me not worried. So, basically, not breathing and turning blue was a decision on 8 Month Old’s part? I ask for a clarification, and get a positive response.

Uhuh, that sounds about right.

Did you ever have to call 911 for your kids?

Katia is a mother who writes about her two boys (37 months old and 8 months young), and occasionally, her husband (433 months old). She is currently on maternity leave, fulfilling her lifelong dream of writing and making people laugh, and (sometimes) making people cry (which was not her intention, nor her dream). Please visit her blog, IAMTHEMILK.

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