It was our fourth anniversary last week. Admittedly, Michael and I are not great at finding time to be alone together, so every few months, as special occasions arise—a birthday, holiday, anniversary—we make an effort to plan a date.
But on the afternoon of the 26th, I noticed that Ryan was acting lethargic and when I changed his diaper, he felt so warm that I also checked his temperature. It was a shocking 103.7. I called the pediatrician and they told me to bring him in. At the doctor's office Ryan was diagnosed with the flu, so we stopped by the pharmacy to get his prescription and headed home. We cancelled our dinner reservations, and Michael ordered food to pick up on his way home from work. At 3 am that night, when Ryan was screaming and burning up, the three of us gathered in our bed together, trying to help Ryan cool down and get comfortable, and Michael looked at me and said, 'This is love.'
We made it through a few days of dropping temperatures coupled with an increase in energy, until Sunday, when Ryan developed a serious rash on his chest, back and legs. After a visit to Urgent Care and a call to our pediatrician's nurses line, it was determined that he was having a reaction to the flu medicine. I have to tell you, I have never felt so helpless, seeing Ryan go through something that I don't understand. I was starting to feel like this babe couldn't catch a break. Now, Monday morning, things are starting to look up, but what I discovered this past week is that there are few things more compelling in life then when your child needs you—and Ryan's sickness flipped something in me, pushing all personal priorities out of the way.