Written by: Suzanna Palmer May 13 2012 Jacob braved his first cold last week, and despite his runny but stuffy nose, dry cough and frequent sneezing, he was a real trooper. His mother, on the […]
Written by: Suzanna Palmer May 13 2012
Jacob braved his first cold last week, and despite his runny but stuffy nose, dry cough and frequent sneezing, he was a real trooper. His mother, on the other hand, was a real mess. Hearing him wheeze and cough and sneeze through the night was just too sad for words … Er, well, you know what I mean.
When you’re a mama, the only thing worse than toughing out a sickness yourself is watching your little one suffer through one. Knowing your baby feels crummy makes you wish you had a magic wand and could wave it all away. Instead, you pray, wait, and offer plenty of cuddles and soft lullabies in the meantime. Of course, a little medicine helps, too.
When Jacob woke us up the other night at 2 am with congested cries for help, we were at a loss for what to do. Fortunately, Tom’s trusty iPhone and Google came to the rescue. In minutes, pajama-clad Tom was out the door on a mission.
Being on vacation at the time, he was unfamiliar with the area. So, for the next 60 minutes, he drove from store to store searching for an open 24-hour pharmacy or grocery store. This did two things: Solidified his status as the World’s Best Dad and his intense dislike for driving around aimlessly in the middle of the night. (Really, though, neither of these needed to be confirmed.)
Of course, by the time Tom got home, Jacob had been sound asleep for half an hour, and I wasn’t sure who to feel sorrier for—my husband or my baby. Since Tom had toughed out a whole hour on the road, I did my best to let him sleep while Jacob woke up every hour or two for the rest of the night.
I might have felt sorry for myself, too, except I couldn’t help but remember when I was on the other end of it. When I was a little girl, no matter what time of night it was or how sick my sister and I were, my mama was always there for us. Even after working a 12-plus hour day, she always a perfect picture of motherly care—selfless, tireless (or so it seemed to us), soothing and sweet.
Somehow, remembering how it felt to be cared for by my mother as a little girl made caring for Jacob through a tough night just a bit easier. Thankfully, by the next day, Jacob was nearly back to his old, sweet self. Maybe the cold had run its course, but I’d like to think a father’s dedication and a mother’s love had a little something to do with it.