MOM ON THE RUN: Sick son leaves busy parents worried

My husband and I are standing in the kitchen having an important conversation, working through a dilemma that we used to struggle with pretty regularly: “What do you think?”

Outside, the world is completely dark — it’s pre-dawn, and the kitchen light reflects yellow and warm in the window. My husband is up and showered, preparing to leave for work. I’ve been up for an hour myself; after a long while of lying in the dark watching the clock, I gave up, got up and went to be productive. Clearly I wasn’t going to get any more sleep. And I’ve been busy: emptied the dishwasher, rotated the laundry, fed the dogs, all with one ear cocked for noises upstairs.

“I think he’s OK,” I say. “I think it’s just a bug.”

“I can stay home,” my husband says.

“I can’t,” I say. “I have that big meeting today.” Which is crazy, really. I never have big meetings, never go anywhere. But today, the morning after my son has been throwing up all night, I have to be in Maryland by 10 a.m.

“I know,” my husband says. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I have plenty of leave.”

I nod, I know, but still: “I don’t think you need to stay home,” I tell him. “He’s asleep now, and he’s either going to sleep until noon or throw up until noon. Either way, neither of us will be able to do much.”

“I thought we had to stay home with sick kids now?” My husband and I have had several H1N1 flu conversations lately, back and forth, back and forth: teenagers, vaccinations, symptoms, worries. Neither of our kids has asthma, or any kind of lung issues — is that enough to protect them? We missed the vaccinations at school — oops, I didn’t send the paperwork in early enough. Do we need to hunt down a clinic, stand in line for hours and hours? Or is everyone overreacting? In any case, our kids have already been exposed — two friends recently had H1N1 — and one of the early pieces of advice I heard and shared is not to leave H1N1-infected teenagers home alone, that they can “turn” quickly — and that’s what’s driven this conversation now, me and my husband, standing in the kitchen in the early-morning darkness, trying to figure out what to do with our sick son.

But, “He doesn’t have the flu,” I tell my husband. I know the H1N1 symptoms well, I’ve read every article, turned up the volume on every news story. “No fever, no cough, and vomitting is not a typical symptom.”

Really, if the news weren’t so full of flu these days, would we think a puking son was anything more than a gross inconvenience? “A 24-hour stomach bug,” I finish. “I’m sure that’s what it is. He’ll be fine.”

“OK,” my husband says. I’m the official H1N1 worrier, and if I’m satisfied, he’s satisfied.

“I’ll call him and check in a lot, and if I don’t like his answers, I’ll come home,” he suggests. I nod, and, “I should be back in the area by 1 p.m. I’ll take over from there.”

I move to the junk drawer, pull out a black marker and a sticky note, and scrawl a note: “Text me and Dad when you wake up. Drink Gatorade. Mom”

I press it onto the microwave door and think gratefully about how much easier working mom life is with an ailing teenager than with an ailing toddler.

A few minutes later, my husband hugs me goodbye. “No kissing for any of us for a while,” he warns. “How about a fist bump?” I tease, and wave as he heads out the door to work.

But quickly I turn serious: before going up to dress for work myself, I turn on my cell phone, check the battery level, and plug it in for a quick charge. I’m not worried, really, but still ...

Lianne Wilkens lives with her family in Manassas. She can be reached at liannewilkens@ hotmail.com, or follow her on Twitter @MessengerMOTR.