Speaking Pediatrician

We’ve been unbelievably lucky with Amelia in many, many ways.  One of those ways is how healthy she’s been, especially for her first winter in preschool.  I’m thankful every day for our healthy, strong, growing girl.  However, lately, we’ve had several small battles with minor health issues – a sinus infection, ear infections, pink eye, croup, and bronchiolitis.  Again, thankfully, I know that these are all minor issues.  We will most likely encounter these and a wide variety of other challenges over the coming years. 

Sickness is one of those parts of parenthood that isn’t given much thought by parents-to-be as they imagine their life with baby.  It’s also a part of that new life that takes up more time than you expect, brings a new level of grossness to your relationship with that bouncing baby, and introduces more confusion than you could have possibly anticipated.

This past week, I found myself spending two late afternoons/evenings in our pediatrician’s office.  I haven’t met every single provider in the practice, but I feel like I’m getting very close to having the full set.  On both of these occasions, I found myself hesitant about taking Amelia in; wondering whether or not her sickness was worth a doctor’s visit or even if it was truly sickness.  Both times, she needed to be there.  Both times, I left feeling validated and armed with suggestions (and once a new antibiotic) to combat these germs that turn Amelia into a very different baby.

However, parts of this pediatrician process leave me baffled and even a bit insecure.  So, for those of you who aren’t experienced in this area, babies can’t talk.  Unfortunately and to the chagrin of all parents of infants, they can’t tell you when something hurts, when they feel sick or the details of any discomforts.  Obviously, life would be much easier if they could.  This brings a new and somewhat disconcerting level to doctor’s visits.  When I go to the doctor for me, I have answers to the many, many questions that are hurled at me by receptionists, nurses and doctors.  When I take Amelia to the pediatrician, this is not always the case.  Yes, I know my daughter and yes, I can describe how she has been acting.  But, on the other hand, I find it difficult to explain to a doctor how another person is feeling or the intent behind her actions. 

I know that pediatricians understand this and the more I interact with them, the more I liken the profession to that of Sherlock Holmes.  Elementary, my dear parent, this grunt and that look and that particular way of breathing obviously point to this childhood illness that you would have never expected and had no idea how to approach on your own.  It seems to be either that or don’t worry, your child is completely fine; good luck with getting through whatever phase/illness/new skill that has prompted all of your concerns.

This guessing and trial-and-error is something I didn’t put much thought into as an expectant parent.  There’s this misconception out there that sometimes seems to be perpetuated by well-meaning relatives, friends, or more experienced parents, that you’ll just understand your baby because it’s your baby.  I’m adding this to my running list of baby myths.  Nine and a half months in, just as Amelia is still learning to understand and navigate the world, I’m still learning to understand and navigate Amelia. 

Currently, thanks to lots of TLC and some awesome antibiotics, Amelia is speedily recovering from her latest bout with ear infections and bronchiolitis.  As for me, I’m continuing to learn to speak both Amelia and pediatrician, so I can add one more badge to my parenting collection.