For example: The night I went into labor he was fast asleep and I was pacing back and forth timing my contractions. When they got to be a few minutes apart, I woke him up.....much to my despair, instead of flying out of bed and rushing around like a mad man gathering our hospital bags and such (you know, like in the movies....) Instead, he calmly rolled over and said, "maybe you should lay down and wait it out awhile longer." Um....you can probably guess how well that went over. I'm sure there was some hormonal-about-ready-to-pop attitude and threats of him having to deliver the baby in our own bed if he wanted me to "wait it out awhile longer". It's all a little hazy.....
It was a precious moment.
But in Kyle's defense he heeded to my attitude and calmly loaded up his whale-of-a-wife and drove to the hospital while I cried on the phone to my mom saying "I can't do this, it hurts....I'm done!"
Bottom line, I'm a weeny in the midst of pain and I tend to dramatically over react in certain situations. And my husband doesn't. Which I am extremely thankful for...otherwise I'm sure we would have paid more visits to the ER and Urgent Care this past year that would have all been completely unnecessary.
Here is what happened Sunday night:
My usual happy-go-lucky little boy went from this....
To a red-faced, feet-kicking, bottom-of-the-belly screaming little being. Kyle and I passed him back and forth trying to soothe him but he only got louder and more persistent. we offered a bottle, food, infant Tylenol, books, singing, peek-a-boo's....and nothing, I mean NOTHING was phasing him in the slightest. Finally, out of desperation I said I'm taking him to the Urgent Care. Surprisingly Kyle agreed. Our little boy was completely out of character and I wasn't about to "lay down and wait it out".
We loaded him up, drove two seconds to the Urgent Care and carried him in. And would you believe the moment we sat down to check-in he started smiling and flirting with the Medical Assistant.
Then he started belching.
So take a wild guess what the diagnosis was? Gas.
Yep, we took our kid to the Urgent Care for gas. I think he actually enjoyed the experience and thought it was cool...he played with the doctor's stethoscope, laughed when they took his heart rate, loved the crinkly paper he sat on, waved and smiled to the pretty girls as we left hanging our heads in embarrassment. Oh well, when all was said and done at least I could go to bed at night knowing that there was nothing terribly wrong with our precious baby. Would I do it again, absolutely...I would rather be the over-reacting mother bringing her baby in for gas than to not do anything and be regretful of it later.
So yes, I will be that kind of mom and will work on holding my head high in situations such as this.