Thinking
"I have spit-up everywhere," Freddie groaned as he fell into his bed next to Sam. "And I'm too tired to even go shower it all off."
"Well I don't even what to know how much formula I have matted into my hair," Sam yawned. "It's like it was Jason's goal tonight to make us as disgusting as possible."
"He's a real crafty for being only five months old," Freddie said.
"He gets that from me," Sam said, kicking off her shoes and pulling the covers up over her without even bothering to change out of the clothes she had been wearing all day. "Seriously, though, he was extra feisty today. Wonder what's got his diaper in a knot."
"I dunno," Freddie said, settling underneath the covers with this wife. "But what I do know is I'm looking forward to the best five-and-a-half hours of sleep I've ever had before we've got to get up and do this all over again."
"I hear that," Sam said as Freddie gave her a quick kiss. "Night, baby."
"Night," Freddie said, reaching over and turning off the lamp on his bedside table.
The couple had been asleep for no less than two minutes when suddenly, a loud cry sounded from the baby monitor on Sam's nightstand.
"What? What now?" Sam moaned as her and Freddie sat up again.
"He's been sleeping through the night for almost a month now," Freddie sighed.
"I guess he needs changed or something," Sam said. She looked over at her husband. "Well, good luck in there."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Freddie said. "Why do I have to get up?"
"Because I'm exhausted and haven't had more than five hours sleep since he was born," Sam said simply.
"Oh, and I've just been laying around napping since we've had Jason," Freddie said, rolling his eyes. "Come on, I put him to bed!"
"Look," Sam said. "I'd love to go get him. But it's just I'm still kind of sore from the twenty-three hours of labor it took for us to have him in the first place!"
Freddie opened his mouth, but then thought better of it.
"Fine," he conceded, kicking back the covers and getting to his feet. "But you're going to have to stop using that excuse to win every argument soon, Sam."
"Yeah, yeah, sure, sure," Sam said, laying back down.
Freddie headed down the hall to Jason's nursery, where his son way lying in his crib, his face red from crying so loud.
"Hey, buddy," Freddie said gently, scooping the infant out of his crib. "What's the matter? You need a new diaper? Well don't worry, daddy's here."
But when he set Jason down on the changing table, he discovered his diaper was dry as a bone.
"Alright, so you don't need changed," Freddie said. "You hungry? Well I can fix that. You're going to have to settle for formula, though, because if I wake mommy up to nurse you, she's going to hurt me."
He took Jason downstairs into the kitchen, pulling out an already-prepared bottle from the fridge. As he held the bottle nipple up to his mouth, though, Jason turned his head away, still screaming at the top of his lungs.
Freddie frowned as he suddenly realized that Jason's cries were not his normal ones. The sounds coming from him now seemed raspy and filled with pain. Freddie carefully laid a hand on his son's forehead, only to find that the child was burning up.
"Hey, what's taking so long?" Sam asked, coming into the kitchen rubbing her eyes. "Does he need to be nursed or-"
"No, I-I think he's sick," Freddie frowned.
"What?" Sam exclaimed, suddenly wide-awake. She held out her arms for Jason.
"He has a fever," Freddie nodded. "And I'm not liking the sound of that cry…"
"Well go get the baby medicine!" Sam said. "And the thermometer!"
"Okay," Freddie said, hurrying out of the room.
"Shhh, it's okay sweetie," Sam said, gently rubbing Jason's back. "Mommy and daddy will make you feel better."
But Jason still continued to wail, his cries now coming out in short, gaspy bursts.
"Alright, here's the medicine," Freddie said, handing Sam a small bottle. "It says you're supposed to mix it in with his formula, but I don't know if he'll even drink it. He wasn't taking the bottle I was trying to give him earlier."
"Well we're just going to have to keep trying until he drinks it," Sam said firmly. "Okay, I'll get his bottle ready, you take his temperature."
She handed Jason back to Freddie, giving him a quick kiss on top of his small, blonde head.
Freddie gently placed the thermometer in Jason's ear while at the same time trying to soothe him.
"I know, Jason," Freddie sighed. "I know, it's no fun being sick. Mommy and daddy don't like it any more than you do."
He pulled the thermometer from his ear.
"102.8!" he cried, looking down at the reading.
"Are you serious?" Sam frowned. "Freddie, that's high. Should we call someone?"
"I-I don't know, it might just be the flu," Freddie said. "Let's just see if his fever goes down after he takes that medicine."
Just then Jason began coughing heavily, his tiny stomach heaving, all the while still trying to cry, causing him to gasp for breath.
"Hold on, Sam! Sam, I-this isn't good," Freddie said, his eyes widening.
"Oh my God!" Sam cried. "Can he even breathe?"
"Come on, we-we're going to the emergency room," Freddie said, grabbing his car keys from the counter. "This can't be just the flu."
….
"This is all our fault," Sam moaned as her and Freddie stood in the small hospital room, watching a doctor and two nurses huddled over Jason. "We knew he had been acting different all day, and we didn't do anything! We just sat there and complained about not getting enough sleep!"
"I know, I-I feel terrible," Freddie sighed.
"Do you guys know what he has yet?" Sam asked anxiously, stepping over to the doctors. "Is he going to be okay? Can you at least tell us that? Is he-"
"Relax, Mrs. Benson," the doctor told her kindly.
"Relax?" Sam repeated, glaring. "You want me to relax after I just had to rush my baby here because he couldn't breathe?"
"Sam, calm down," Freddie said quickly, taking his wife's hand. He looked up at the doctor. "Look, we're both over here freaking out, okay? Can you just tell us what's wrong with our son so we can-"
"Your son has Respirtatory Syncytial Virus," the doctor explained.
"Oh my God!" Sam frowned. "How-How bad is that?"
"I haven't even heard of it," Freddie said, his voice shaking.
"It's actually one of the most common ailments in early infancy," the doctor told him. "It's an infection in the respiratory tract, which is what makes it difficult for the child to breathe. It's very contagious; my guess is that Jason picked it up from another child in a grocery store, the mall…anywhere where'd there would be other children."
"Well is he going to be okay? How-How serious is this?" Sam asked.
"In most cases, the child will be just fine within about two weeks," the doctor said. "Now, there are some cases where the child will go on to develop bronchitis, however those are very rare instances, and after our examination of Jason, it appears that his case is not that serious."
"So-So he's going to be fine?" Sam asked, looking over at her son, who was lying on the examination table next to the two nurses. He had finally stopped crying, and was now fast asleep, his chest rising and falling peacefully.
"Yes, he's going to be fine," the doctor said. "You were right to bring him in here, though. His airway was beginning to get clogged up from all the mucus in his system. Thankfully we were able to clear it up. You two will just need to make sure to make sure that doesn't happen again. We'll give you a bulb syringe for you to use on him and then I'd recommend a vaporizer as well. You're also only going to feed him in small amounts."
"Okay, we-we can do that," Freddie said, letting out a sigh of relief.
"If he has any other serious problems breathing, or his fever continues to rise, bring him back here," the doctor said. "But otherwise, he should make a full recovery on his own."
"Thank you," Sam said, stepping over to the examination table and carefully picking up her sleeping son and holding him close.
"I'll go get you the paperwork for you to fill out," the doctor said, giving the two a small smile.
As him and the nurses filed out of the room, Freddie stepped over to Sam and Jason, putting an arm around his wife.
"Well…that was definitely the scare of a lifetime," he said softly. "I'm starting to get why my mom rushed me here every time I'd even sneeze."
"Yeah…maybe I shouldn't call her crazy so often," Sam mumbled. She looked back down at Jason. "I don't care how little sleep I get because of you. I don't care if you spit-up on me, or yank my hair, or-or anything. Just never scare us like that again, Jason. Ever."
