The Eve of Distress

As our three day (long) weekend comes to an end, the beginning of our new life seems painfully close. Have you ever felt that sad feeling in the pit of your stomach? When the sun sets on your last day off and the sudden depression of the coming day dawns upon you? Well multiply that by a million, and you’ll get the picture of what I’m feeling right about now.

The past three days were meant to be a celebration, a kind of mini-vacation before I started work. Omair and I made loads of plans on how to kick in this new era of our lives, but unfortunately, nature had its own scheming. Iman came down with a high fever on Tuesday night. Obviously our lives come to a screeching halt. No matter how many times you’ve seen the symptoms before, when your baby falls ill, it’s always the same uncertain horror. In the back of my mind I knew what it was… Iman has a history of frequent “upper respiratory tract infections” in layman’s terms, a sore throat. She comes down with it almost every 3 months or so. Same symptoms, same diagnosis, same medicine, same recovery… but strangely enough, even though the back of my head spoke logic, my heart still hurt at the thought that she was sick. Mothers have a tendency of worrying, but I think that’s what makes us more caring and nurturing. I sat by Iman’s side all night long, dozing off for an hour or so, checking her temperature every 2 hours, then woke her up if she needed medicine and hugged her back to sleep. All the while praying that by some miracle, all would be well in the morning.

Unfortunately it wouldn’t be so, and the following morning we ended up at the doctor’s office. As the back of my head had predicted, the diagnosis was the same, and we came home with a familiar prescription. But this time, somehow the fever keeps lingering. It’s the end of 3 days and Iman still isn’t back to 100%. For the past 3 days she has been cranky, crying her eyes out at the silliest things! She’s been clingy, all day she’s had her arms glued around my neck. She hasn’t been eating; no matter what I make… she refuses to put anything in her mouth. She won’t sleep well, she won’t play… but the amazing thing is that as hard as it is to nurse a sick child, there is nowhere in the world I would rather be than by her side.

So tomorrow morning as I leave for work, the hardest part will be to leave Iman. But luckily she’ll have her dad with her all day, which is the greatest blessing, because she adores him, and Omair is a wonderful father. And if anyone else has the warmest hugs and the loving kisses, it’s dad.

* If anyone is interested in following up on the previous post's comments about me being hired "although I am an Asian", please read my last comment on that post.