To hear the house phone ring at night. Because it means something urgent.
It started with Hubby’s mobile phone ringing. Somehow I had a bad feeling about that call. Hubby said to ignore it. It stopped after many rings.
Then the house phone rang. My first reaction was: No! Not the Little One! I jumped out of bed as fast as my aging body could and dashed out of the room.
Sure enough, PoPo called to tell us that the Little One was running a fever. 37.3 degrees celsius wasn’t that high, but it was high enough to throw me into turmoil.
After giving PoPo instructions to feed the Little One some paracetamol syrup, I laid back in bed for a while.
But there was no way I could fall asleep. I was praying to Somebody Up There to help me, help the Little One. It’s ok, take some years off my own life, help the Little One.
In the end, Hubby drove me down to my mum’s place at midnight. At least I could be there to help out, to take care of the Little One. A peace of mind. The sight of the Little One sitting up and greeting me with a pacifier-grin was enough to take the lead of my heart.
Turned out the Little One was probably teething, or having a slight flu. We’re still not sure. Because the Little One didn’t develop a fever when his 2 bottom front teeth erupted from the gums, we did not have prior experience.
Silly of me? Maybe. But the fear of the unknown pertaining to the Little One is so real. And the worry of everything associated with him.
Life is so precarious. And fragile. Unpredictable. Scary. For young lives, who still have not mastered the art of taking care of themselves, by themselves. It’s an art, since adults need not necessarily know to take care of ourselves either…