But Daddy was away. Auntie had an appointment. Grandma & Grandpa were asleep. And I was too embarrassed to ask anyone else to help me to take him to the emergency room. I knew that he needed treatment because he was miserable. And I knew that I had to suck it up --- get strong --- and take care of my baby. And I did. Mostly. With Meaghan's help :)
Meaghan, Isaac and I went to the emergency room at the Catholic hospital in Bangor. And I was proud of just being able to get there without any significant panic attacks (this can be a problem for me). But when I arrived, I needed help in remembering my name, Isaac's birth date, etc. Meaghan was kind enough to help out when she could.
During the brief insurance interview before treatment, I asked that Isaac's hospital records indicate that we do not want Isaac's immunization information to be shared with the state as we do not immunize Isaac and have been recently battling the state over this. The receptionist agreed to do so ... but with some hesitation. Then, both Meaghan and I noticed that the receptionist was slightly concerned when she asked the one word question, "Mother?", and I replied, "Gisele" (the name of my mother). It turns out she was asking whether I was Isaac's mother. Oops...
Well, I don't know whether you all are seeing where I am going with this yet ... but it turns out that my initial hesitations in responding to questions regarding Isaac's birth date, my name, etc.... and my concern over the state obtaining his records ... as well as my giving my own mother's name when the receptionist asked whether I was Isaac's mother ... seemed to create some concern by the hospital staff as to whether I was really Isaac's Mom. (Perhaps the fact that he looks nothing like me also played a part). While waiting to be seen by the doctor the staff rarely took their eyes off of us ... and the security guard hovered around us. Coincidence? Maybe. But when Meaghan became concerned that we were being watched, I knew that something was up.
After a short wait, Isaac was seen for his conjunctivitis, given meds, and sent on his way. We were asked to stay an extra 20 minutes to be sure that he didn't have a reaction to the medication. During that time, I think all of Isaac's hugs & kisses, and "Mommy, I love you"s gave the staff reason to believe that we were indeed family. What began as concern on their faces, soon turned to smiles. And we all left feeling much better - especially Isaac.
So, I did it! I successfully brought my son to the hospital, calmed his fears, read him some stories, and got him the healing that he needed. I can do this :) I can put aside my adoption PTSD and be the "mother bear" that I need to be in order to do right by my child. He and I will continue to teach one another all that we are capable of. Thank God for Isaac. Thank God for Meaghan. And Thank God for Me. (And a shout out to modern medicine as well!)