It’s 3 a.m., and I’m struggling to find rest on the pull-out couch at the children’s hospital. Suddenly, an alarm shatters the silence, and our door bursts open as the night shift rushes in, disturbing our fragile sanctuary. This time, I’m ready: I leap out from beneath the starched blankets and into the harsh lights of the hallway. A chaotic mix of shouted commands, machinery beeps, and sneaker squeaks fills the air as the medical team works frantically to stabilize my fragile nine-week-old daughter, who lies helplessly in her bed. I stand frozen, unable to help her, praying endlessly in my pajamas within the walls that became my home for two weeks during that winter of 2010.
Just three weeks earlier, I had been blissfully cocooned at home, eagerly anticipating Christmas with my newborn. I hadn’t felt comfortable attending large family gatherings during flu season, so my husband promised to arrange for a few close family members to drop by the day after Christmas to exchange gifts. Unfortunately, one family member brought along a very sick toddler, eager to see the baby. I was so focused on our newborn that I didn’t realize there was a feverish, miserable child in my home for hours.
It wasn’t long before my three-year-old fell ill, followed by the baby. I vividly remember pacing the floors in the early morning, checking the thermometer and listening to her shallow breaths. With my husband away on a work trip, I had to navigate the ER alone, where I learned that my newborn had contracted a severe case of RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus). While it typically manifests as a cold in older children and adults, it can be serious for infants, especially those under two months.
Her RSV quickly progressed to bronchial pneumonia, and the standard treatments were proving ineffective. My husband rushed back from his trip, joining me in the hospital, horrified and in shock as we watched our daughter decline. After a week spent in a tent filled with Albuterol and oxygen, along with constant breathing treatments that drained her tiny body, she finally began to show signs of improvement. She became hungry and fussy again, and we were finally allowed to hold her.
When we were discharged, the respiratory therapist warned us how fortunate we were; her condition could have easily worsened. All the cilia in her lungs had been destroyed and wouldn’t regenerate for another three years, meaning we had to keep her away from any respiratory illnesses until she was stronger. “Great,” I thought, “We have a preschooler and live in a busy city. How are we supposed to shield her from germs?”
In the weeks, months, and even years that followed, we found ourselves in a relentless cycle of breathing treatments, sanitizer, and trying to explain to friends and family that visiting would require them to answer a series of health-related questions and sanitize upon arrival. Some were compassionate and understood, recalling the numerous email updates from the hospital detailing our harrowing experience and pleas for prayers. Others dismissed our requests, calling us “irrational” or “putting them out.”
Reflecting on those moments now, I can see how insensitive and gaslighting they were. Yet, back then, I struggled to comprehend why a simple request for our child’s safety was met with such negativity. Sadly, this mindset seems to be everywhere today, triggering painful memories that envelop my thoughts, reminding me of the times I felt powerless to protect my daughter from carelessness both before and after her illness.
When I see social media posts from those who defiantly gather for birthdays and holidays, my heart races and my anxiety spikes. “Can’t they see that these gatherings endanger others?!” I think to myself. The more this virus spreads, the closer it gets to my children. My sweet girl, who still faces illnesses more frequently and severely than her sisters, whose body sometimes reacts intensely to common pathogens, is someone I refuse to watch struggle to breathe in a cold, sterile hospital ward again.
Yet, asking for masks and social distancing from friends and family is often met with comments that label us as “irrational” or “burdensome.” The relative who first brought RSV into our home nearly twelve years ago is now an anti-masker. Friends fail to grasp why we insist on distancing during the ongoing pandemic, and my children are left confused by the apparent indifference toward health and safety.
I will continue to hold my ground, carrying the weight of trauma and sorrow, yet still clinging to the hope that we can someday reflect on this period and recognize the vital importance of caring for one another in a chaotic world. In the meantime, I’ll keep doing my best to protect my family and yours.
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Summary:
This article recounts a mother’s harrowing experience when her newborn contracted a virus during a holiday gathering, leading to a serious illness that required hospitalization. It explores the challenges of navigating health concerns during family visits, dealing with insensitivity from others, and the ongoing struggle to protect her child from illnesses. The narrative emphasizes the importance of understanding and supporting health precautions during times of heightened risk.
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- What is RSV and how does it affect infants?
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- The importance of health precautions during family visits.
- How to explain health concerns to family and friends.
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