The Hardest Part

Do you think I'm sick?

I could come up with about a million answers for the question, "What's the hardest thing about being a mom?" Well, delivering the baby wasn't exactly a Caribbean vacation. Putting a onesie on such a tiny little wiggly thing is no picnic either. The explosive diapers aren't fun and three months of sleepness nights is just insane. But without a doubt, the hardest thing is this: deciding when to go to the doctor.

McKenzie has been to the doctor, and once to the after-hours clinic, to be diagnosed with vomiting, teething and a cold. All three of these basically mean that nothing can be done. I imagine the doctors probably laughed at us as we were walking out. But she has also been diagnosed with three ear infections, which require medication. It's a weird feeling to think "I knew it! I knew she was sick! In your face, nurse that told me not to come in!" I'm not happy that she's sick, but then again I kind of am because then I feel like I knew what I was doing by taking her in. It's such a fine line between being that mom who goes to the doctor when her child sneezes and that mom who waits until the child is running a fever, covered in snot and coughing wildly. You feel stupid when the doctor says it's just a cold, but you feel kind of ashamed when the doctor says that's a pretty bad infection.

So there it is. The hardest part. I don't want to see my baby suffer, but I don't want her to suffer through a needless trip to the doctor either. And for all you experienced moms out there, please understand that when I look back at this being the hardest part, I'll wish we were back here again. I'm certain my answer to this question will change when she's six and headed to kindergarten, thirteen and talking about boys, sixteen and wanting to drive, eighteen and leaving for college... Ok, I have to stop thinking about all that. Those teenage years are doing to be tough. For now, I'll just hold her, hug her and take her to the doctor when my gut tells me to!