Last year we spent Christmas Day Eve in the ER. I was bound and determined not to have a repeat performance this year. So, when C had been coughing since Thanksgiving, and the week before Christmas was coughing so hard he would make himself throw up, we went to the doctor.

One round of antibiotics later, all seemed well. Two days later, at my parents house, he was constantly coughing. And made himself throw up. I called the doctor’s office the day before Christmas, told them of my no-ER-this-year vow, and got a refill of the prescription called in.

It helped, but much more slowly this time. He still cried throughout the day, told me his chest hurt, and had some wheezey sounding breathing for the first day or two. So, we he was still having five minute coughing fits on our drive home, I made him a doctor’s appointment for the next day, so we weren’t going to the ER over the weekend or during the New Year’s holiday.

Halfway to the dcotor’s office, I realized I forgot my diaper bag, which I had carefully packed with diapers, snacks and waters. I didn’t think it was a big deal, since surely this wouldn’t take long. There was a newborn appointment before us, so we had to wait for a bit. And, inevitably C had a dirty diaper, so I had to ask for one from the receptionist. Again, not a big deal, we’re not going to be around long enough to need another change.

After C threw no less than three fits because he wanted to leave and I wouldn’t let him, we were seen. And told to head over to the main hospital for a chest x-ray. The doctor kindly informed me that x-ray was slammed, and I might want to call my husband and have him bring snacks. So I did.

He arrived 5 or 10 minutes before we were called back to register for x-rays (the wait wasn’t short, but not bad at all). As I was signing paper work he said, “don’t you think we should tell him I’m going to hold him during the x-ray since you can’t? You’re 18 and a half weeks pregnant. You can’t be around radiation.”

Oh. Good thought husband. I really would have waltzed into the room, put on a heavy bib and completely irradiated my unborn child as I attempted to restrain the other one while a giant, scary machine hovered over him. Good thing I forgot my diaper bag, or some poor x-ray tech would have been holding my screaming toddler, rather than my husband.

X-rays were read, and C doesn’t have pneumonia (yay!), but it is unclear what he does have. So, we got new antibiotics and a steroid. After 4 hours at the doctor he refused to nap, but at 5:45 told me, “I want get in my bed Mommy.” And hey, who am I to argue with that?

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