Knowing

One week ago, I drove a feverish, in-pain baby girl to the pediatrician's office. I felt a little foolish. I had just been there two days prior (to diagnose a dairy sensitivity) and I am NOT one to rush off to the doctor's office for "any little thing".

But the fever wasn't going away. And she was doubling over and screaming throughout the day and night. I knew something was wrong with my baby.

Suspecting a urinary tract infection (UTI), they catheterized my sweet girl. Given a choice, I hope never to have to witness such a thing again. But we both survived that.

Early results indicated... no infection.

I was sent back home and told to monitor the fever. The doctor was glad I'd brought her in and never implied I was foolish, but I felt a little silly. I really, really am not even close to a hypochondriac; multiple ped visits are not my M.O. Still, I was relieved.

The fever climbed. The pain continued. Soothing a glassy-eyed baby girl with a fever of 103 at 3 in the morning early Sunday, my husband and I knew... there WAS something wrong. No cold symptoms. No signs of a tummy bug. No pulling at the ears. Something was going on...

Back to the doctor we went on Monday morning...

And learned that the lab cultures had grown: it IS a UTI.

What does that mean? Antibiotics and some further tests. I'm a little nervous about those, but I have faith that it will all work out, no matter what the results. The doctor had told us to pray it was NOT a UTI since they can be more serious in babies...

But you know what?

The biggest thing I felt when the diagnosis was made was... RELIEF. Because not knowing was killing us. Not knowing wasn't getting our baby better. Not knowing meant she would continue to sob and writhe with pain even while nursing.

KNOWING means we can act. It means we can figure it out. It means we can help her feel better.

KNOWING is a finer thing.

This post is linked to Finer Things Friday.