Still a little weepy and shaky from the wee early hours of the morning. Dadguy woke me from a rather dead sleep last night around 1:30am. He was holding my Pearl and shaking me with an urgency that is usually reserved for copious amounts of puke or poo. Baffled I sat up and he handed me a baby that smelled of neither, and from there I still cannot tell you what exactly happened or in what order.
Pearl was cold, bluish and shaking. Her hands were purple, so were her feet. She was unable to cry or do much of anything except labor for the next breath and look at us with a "what is happening to me" look in her eyes.
My dear friend K from two doors down was at the door less than four minutes from the time we called, to stay with our two older sleeping girls and then we went fast. To the Emergency Room. Praying out loud for God to look down on His little Pearl. Some time between "amen" and our arrival at the hospital she hacked/yarked out two huge mucous globbers and began breathing... not exactly normally... but at least more effectively. Her color returned, she warmed up, and after crying for a few minutes, she even graced us with a little bit of conversation that sounded an awful lot like "woo, that was scary... what the heck was that!"
Well that, was a hitch in the happyfunjoy that is sometimes called RSV, sometimes Bronchialitis. I think that I can speak for both Dadguy and myself, that our little excursion was more terrifying than the party we had with two pennies last year.
Thankfully it was also shorter... as in we were home and back in bed by 3:45am. My emotional state is a little whonked right now, refer to the above "weepy and shaky." But all will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of things will be well.