Portrait of a Working Mother


Just when it feels like things couldn’t possibly get worse, Grace gets gangrene.

I found it last night – the tell-tale purple finger. She has been “off” for a few days, but I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. A knee was hot but it didn’t really look like her typical knee infection. She’s been complaining when I take her temp in her ear, so maybe it could have been an ear infection, but without a fever there’s not much to do for it. But last night, when we got home from dance, she had a bloody bandage.

It happened fairly quickly, as her infections are wont to do. I saw the finger the previous night and it was relatively fine – no cause for concern, at any rate. But last night, it turned a corner, decidedly for the worse. After packing a quick bag or three and saying our goodbyes, Grace and Elliot and I left for a days-long hospital stay.

When we got here, all the pediatric rooms were full – there was not a bed for Gracie upstairs – so we were told we would have to spend the night in the ER. This isn’t much of a problem, except that there is nowhere for me and Elliot to sleep in an ER room. The nurses found a bigger room, though, and wheeled in a recliner so that I could have somewhere to rest.

But rest is elusive when your daughter is in the hospital, and you’re worried about exposing your infant son to ER germs, and – oh yeah – you’re about to lose your job and health insurance because you dared to have a baby.

So here I sit, in the ER recliner with Elliot on my breast, drinking weak hospital coffee and working. Or blogging at the minute, but I will be back to work soon enough.

If only the people who are so eager to push me out of my job knew what I do for them.

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