Freddie's first cold was terrifying

Poorly babies are absolutely terrifying, Freddie only had a cold and the week it lasted was the most stressful time of my life. I have learnt that I am terrible in an emergency when it comes to my child and that I am one of those panicky worried parents who always thinks the worst. On the Monday Freddie woke in the night which is most unusual for him because he is a sleep angel sent from the Gods of sleep. He was making this horrific wheezing sound and wouldn’t wake up. I knew it was bad when Luke shouted “ISSY CALL 999” at this point I burst into tears and felt like I was going to faint – a crap response, I know. It turns out that the sound of Luke shouting woke Freddie up who then coughed, giggled at his Dad and then thought it was a great time to have a play and say “a cat” over and over. Four hours later, one exhausted little family managed to get some sleep.



The next night was as bad as the first and we soon established that Freddie had his first cold. I braced myself to be the cool calm and collected Mum that I envisaged but bed time rolled around and I’m found holding an absolutely knackered Freddie in my arms who is trying his hardest to fall asleep despite me waking him up every time he does because I’m convinced that he can’t breathe – I know, I’m shit. Eventually Luke kicks me out of Freddie’s room and gets him off to sleep, he doesn’t know that I sneaked in several times that night to check he was still alive but here we are. 

Wednesday morning rolled around and an albeit very tired (mostly thanks to me) Fred goes to the childminders for a day of fun. At around 2pm I get a call from the childminder telling me that Freddie needs to be sent home because he’s been sick; I immediately think that he needs to go to hospital because it appears that that is the way that my mental mind works. It turns out that the sickness was due to some badly timed tummy time combined with that pesky cough and not the life threatening disease that I had in mind, thank goodness. Wednesday night’s bed time probably went as badly as the previous two nights; we’d been giving Freddie ibuprofen for the pain and checking his temperature regularly. We’d accepted that getting to bed would be a struggle, Freddie would cough a lot and that I am batshit crazy but we made it through and Freddie returned to the childminders for another day. 

Thursday night was equally bad and I was equally stressed. I think I threatened to call an ambulance at least eight times until I was properly booted out of the nursery until further notice. I called my cousin for some moral support who said all the right things and gave me some properly decent medical advice. At this point Luke was the only compus mentus adult in the house and made the executive decision to take the day off work and give Freddie a break from the childminders to try and get some rest. He seemed much better and went to bed much easier on Friday night with looser cough. I however had got myself in such a state that my body finally reacted and I had the sh*ts. Fabulous. 

This left me totally exhausted for the weekend so Freddie and I decided to take lots of naps together and let Luke do everything else. The cough seemed to have eased but the snot just kept on coming. My Mum reassured me by reminding me that it was clear, he didn't have a temperature and he could breathe. I don't know about Freddie but I certainly felt better about the whole thing. Sunday night rolled around and Freddie went to bed like a dream, he hadn't been himself all weekend but that's expected when you're full of cold and your Mum's a nutter. 

By the following Monday Freddie had slept through with his little bum in the air because that's how likes to do it these days. I woke him up and he was well unimpressed, maybe I moved him too soon but he coughed and coughed; he calmed down enough for me to give him his bottle but it wasn't long before he coughed so much that it all came back up and my heart dropped, his broke and I needed the loo. I bundled him up in his buggy and took him around to my Mum's for the day and asked her to fix him. She said that she would see how he was and call the Dr if needed, he seemed to perk up around a more sane adult which was a relief for me. I proceeded to pester my Mum with lots of texts and spend most of the day stressing about the broken baby.

My Mum did take him to Dr who confirmed it was just a cold and that his little body was fighting it really well and we were to keep on with what we were doing (I don't think she mentioned the constant panicking and almost-dialled-999-calls). Seeing a Dr made me feel much more at ease and by the next Wednesday Freddie was back to his usual self and calling me a hag. He's currently on his 87th cold since this one and I'm dealing with it like a less mental person; I might've convinced myself he was choking to death last night but I didn't panic (too much) and I didn't want to call an ambulance so we've made massive steps. Any first time parents out there who's little ones haven't had their first cold yet, be warned...they'll make you lose your mind. 

1 comment

  1. not gonna lie I giggled. He is such a healthy little munchkin and you are doing such a good job!

    Erin || MakeErinOver

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