A Scary Week

On Christmas Eve, when everything was finally set out for the next morning, Isaiah and I curled up in bed. After a couple hours, when Isaiah was sleeping soundly, my friend texted (at about one in the morning) to say merry Christmas. I wanted to text back and say all kinds of nasty things about how she could have wakened Isaiah and whatnot. I decided that was inappropriate and I could just text her in the morning to sweetly remind her not to text at night. As I was settling back in to sleep, Isaiah made a funny noise and stopped breathing. I waited a few seconds to see if he’d start again on his own, but he didn’t. I rubbed his cheek, which usually wakes him instantly, with no response. I squeezed his cheek gently and he jumped, taking a deep breath. If he hadn’t been in my bed and my friend hadn’t texted when she did, Isaiah would have become a statistic. Another baby who died of SIDS with no warning or reason whatsoever. Since then, I’ve gotten very little sleep for fear I won’t wake up if there’s a problem again.

I was able to get him in to the doctor today. He has a mild infection and some nasty congestion, which the doctor thinks was the culprit. Thankfully, the doctor ascribes to the “better safe than sorry” school of thought. Isaiah now has a sleep monitor that will sound an alarm if he stops breathing for more than twenty seconds. The guy who came and taught me to use it was very nice and helpful. He was popular with my cousins who are staying with us while their dad’s in the hospital because he “looks like Santa.” he explained how the machine works, what the different “error” alarms mean and how to fix them and how to hook the monitors to Isaiah. I put the stuff on Isaiah before he fell asleep and got him settled. He looked at me like I’d lost my mind! At least now this Mama can rest assured that her baby will be alright.

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