adoption · adoptive parenting · birth mother · firsts · life is messy · Little Man · mommy monday · sick

Five.

Little Man turned five yesterday.

I can’t hardly believe it myself. It seems like just yesterday we brought him home from the hospital. I remember walking out of the elevator, wondering why no one was even questioning why I would be carrying an obvious newborn in a car seat out the main doors. I remember, distinctly, the fear I had as we drove home on the highways we had driven a hundred times before.

But I don’t want to reminisce šŸ™‚

He turned five, and he announced his first tooth is loose as well. It’s all happening with lightning speed!

It was a bittersweet day.

Little Man was super, super sick all day yesterday. He had a very high fever and spent most of the day lying on the couch, in and out of sleep.

It started Saturday. He had decided weeks ago that instead of a big party, he wanted to go to the indoor go-kart place with some friends and “the daddies.” But he woke up and said his throat and his tummy hurt. We took his temperature and he didn’t have a fever, so then he immediately grabbed his birth book and crawled on top of me and began talking about his birth mother. It was clear he was very sad about his birthday and not being able to just call up S and talk to her or invite her over.

By the time Keith was awake and they were ready to leave, he said his throat hurt a little, but his tummy ache was gone. I chalked it up to excitement, a dry house, and mixed feelings about his birthday.

Oops.

When they got home three hours later, he complained of a headache, had a 102 fever, and took right to bed. He hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before (not for lack of me trying, I promise) and still refused. We did get some ginger ale into him, and finally some Tylenol.

Long story short, the next 36 hours or so involved rotating doses of Tylenol and ibuprofen, insane amounts of ginger ale, one fever spike of 104.9, a call to the 24 hour nurse line, one applesauce packet, one Popsicle, and finally some chicken & noodles and jello.

We did decorate the dining room for him, and had a stack of presents. He discovered those about 10:00 Saturday night when he woke up from one of his naps. He “oohed” and “aahed” over them. He thanked us easily a dozen times for the decorations. And even last night, as we put him to bed, he thanked us for making his birthday good, even though he was sick (we ended up having root beer floats instead of the cake he wanted – much easier on his icky sore throat!). He loved his presents, and he’s excited that his grandparents are all coming over next week and we can have cake “with candles to blow out!” and more presents.

This morning he’s worrying his loose tooth, playing with his new toys, and periodically “taking a break” because he still isn’t feeling 100%. He’s already asked to take a nap, and his appetite is still close to nil (this from the boy who ate three heaping helpings of spaghetti Friday night, along with two slices of garlic bread and a mound of broccoli. Then he wanted yogurt before bed). But his fever is low-grade and he’s drinking Gatorade and ginger ale.

And he wants to cuddle. I figure those days are quickly coming to an end and are numbered, so I’ll take that as long as he wants to!!

But as a note for myself: next year, don’t schedule anything around his actual birthday. The emotions are a lot to deal with and work through, and we need to honor and protect that time for him.

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