Worst Mother of the Summer

That would be me.

In my defense, this is really more of a Worst Moment as a Mother……of the Summer. It’s one of those situations that, while you understand that you didn’t really do anything wrong, or dangerous, the what-ifs relentlessly plague you.

Those of you who are germaphobes, you may want to fill your tub with boiling water and grab your wire brushes.

Here’s what went down..

I have low blood pressure.  Really low.  Its mostly a good and a healthy thing.  During my pregnancy however, as many of you know, low blood pressure led to many fun-filled public fainting episodes.

Normally, the only trouble it gives me is a woozy feeling when standing up, and spots in front of my eyes for a few seconds.  No big wup.  For a couple of weeks in August though, I was really feeling woozy and spotty a lot.  It interfered with exercise and was generally a big nuisance.

On the day in question, I stood up from a bent-over position, I think I was picking something up off the floor, and got hit with the wooz, but the spots were larger and blocked more of my eyesight.  And it didn’t go away.  Not in a few seconds, not in a few minutes.

Was I having a stroke?  Was I about to have a seizure?  I didn’t know, and although I really didn’t want those things to be happening to me, I was mostly concerned with what would befall my little Lukster if I was to drop unconscious to the floor?  Especially with the doors of the house wide open to the world.

I called my husband.  He is never concerned by my terrifying symptoms.  And he has, it pains me to admit, never been wrong thus far.  He was concerned.

I put Luka in the car and raced to hospital.  Alex wanted to take my blood pressure and see what might be going on.

I was really sick!  Finally!  That’d teach him to be so smug and knowledgable about medicine and symptoms and whatnot.

I shuffled dramatically into his office.  I sighingly, slowly sat myself down on the chair near the blood pressure machine.  I watched Alex’s eyes for signs of sympathy.  I didn’t look around me.  I didn’t pay attention to the many, many things that my son should not be touching.

Like this for instance, which sat right next to me..

Pretty hard to miss, huh?  What with it being bright red and having a creepy red, science fiction trash bag in it.  Did you see that?  Here, I’ll give you a closer look, in case you can’t find your spectacles..

Ah, there it is.  See that now?  How it says, BIOHAZARD?  And has that deadly weapon thing as its’ symbol?

It was from this glaring, evil trash can, while I kept my eyes directly on my husband’s, searching them for alarm as he listened for my BP, that my son pulled out a crumpled up dixie cup and took a drink from it.

I don’t know how to convey my emotions.  I imagine that I looked something like Meryl Streep in Sophie’s Choice, my mouth frozen in a silent scream. Elegant and lovely, even in my agony.

It probably looked something more like this..

Or this..

Or any one of these..

I freaked out.  Needless to say, my BP went up.

I ran around like a lunatic, flapping my arms and looking down Luka’s throat as if I would see the horrible whatever he had swallowed, glowing there in the dark.  I would have made him drink hand sanitizer if the doctor hadn’t intervened.

“What’s happened has happened”, he said.  “We can’t reverse it now.  Besides, the worst thing he could possible contract from this office is tuberculosis and that’s an entirely treatable condition.  It’s going to be fine”

Normally, his calm assurances infuriate me, but this time I hung on them.

“Really?”  I pleaded.

I heard myself saying things like, ” so, just tuberculosis, right?  Just tuberculosis?”

Long story short, he appears to be fine.  Several weeks have passed and no sign of my best friend tuberculosis.

But, oh god.  That was horrifying.  I will never take my eyes off my son again.  Ever. Everevereverevereverever.

But back to my blood pressure.

Just minutes after the ‘incident’,  it was 80/ 50-something.  For those of you who don’t know, that is really low.  Really low under any circumstances, but after just watching my son gargle bacteria?  It’s somewhat alarming.

The moral of the story is, what the heck is going on with my blood pressure?



Heather Bogolyubova

About Heather Bogolyubova

Heather Bogolyubova has an un-pronouncable last name. A Maine native, she's returned to the Pine Tree state after several years in New York. Now, she's a newlywed, has a new baby, a new job, and lots of fancy shoes she can never wear in the snow. The job: Stay-at- home mother and wife. Its hard. She's going to tell you all.