I mentioned back in this post that I hadn’t talked to
Em’s birth mom since Em left home for 7 weeks to live with her. Although she’s not living with her anymore,
Em still keeps in touch with her birth mom and occasionally will even spend the
night if they hang out too late together as Em still doesn’t have her driver’s
license and can’t drive herself home.
It wasn’t until an emergency last month that brought Em’s
birth mom and I (and my husband) to interact with each other again. I got a text from Em the night before that
she would be spending the night at her birth mom’s after a family party went
late. I admit, I tried to talk her out
of going in the first place as she had missed some school that week from being sick
and she still seemed pretty run down. It
was a school night that night so my biggest concern was that Em made it to
school on time the next day as she is just months away from graduating from
high school and she can’t afford to miss any school or get behind in her
classes.
The next morning as I was getting my younger kids off to
school and getting ready to go to work I checked my phone to see if Em would
make it to school on time for her first class (she has enough credits that she
can sleep in as a “home release” for her first two classes both A and B days of
school which has been beneficial for her emotional and physical health). “Oh good!” I thought to myself as I saw her
location-“they’re headed in the right direction on the freeway for her to get
to school on time.” My husband happened
to be working from home that day, and I guess great minds think alike (and/or
we’re both naturally overprotective) because a few minutes later he came
hurriedly upstairs after he had checked to make sure Em made it to school and
asked me with concern in his voice, “Why is Em’s location showing the
hospital? It even looks like it’s in the
E.R.?”
My heart started racing and I checked my phone to confirm Em’s
latest location and sure enough, her location showed she was at a
hospital. I immediately texted Em and
tried calling her but she was not answering.
Of course, emergencies only happen at inconvenient times, so although I
normally don’t drive my youngest daughter to school, as soon as I texted Em’s birth
mom to find out what was going on I had to drop Jill off at school that morning
so that her creative but bulky Valentine’s Day box wouldn’t get ruined on the
bus.
“Is Em okay? I
texted. She’s not returning my texts or answering my calls and her location
shows the hospital.” A few minutes
later I got the response “No- she’s not.
I was driving her to school and she said her stomach hurt and then she
passed out. I couldn’t revive her, so I
took her to the ER.”
My husband headed to the hospital while I drove my youngest
to school while simultaneously using voice command to send messages to my boss
and clients that I’d have to cancel appointments for the day due to an
emergency- all the while not knowing if it would turn out to be a “big” or a
“little” emergency.
After I dropped Jill off to school I began to imagine all
sorts of scenarios, and because my mind naturally goes to the worst case, I
thought to myself, “If this incident has anything whatsoever to do with drugs
or alcohol Em is cutting off ALL contact with her birth mom.” Em’s birth mom has worked very hard to remain
sober, so although it wasn’t a likely scenario, you never know. I knew the stomach pain wasn’t appendicitis
because Em had an emergency appendectomy a couple of years ago. “Shoot- what if she’s pregnant!” Also
highly unlikely for good reasons, but still a possibility. And then as I was rushing to get to the
hospital amid all of my panic and racing thoughts I had the distinct impression
come to me that I needed to be gentle and loving towards Em’s birth mom. I’m not normally a mean person, but my Mama
Bear instincts were revving up and I was admittedly annoyed that I was the one
who had to reach out to Em’s birth mom first to find out my child was in the
hospital, rather than her immediately calling me or my husband and letting us
know.
When I arrived at the ER and announced which patient I was
looking for a nurse came out and asked, “How are you related to the
patient?” “I’m mom.” I answered-
somewhat more emphatically than I expected.
The nurse hesitated for a moment and then said, “Okay . . . just making
sure” and showed me to the room where my husband and Em’s birth mom already
were. It must have been kind of confusing for one “mom” to bring a daughter in
and then have another “mom” come. In
addition, when the nurses and staff were talking to us it was a little awkward as they wanted to
communicate with all three of us, but weren’t sure who to turn and look at as
they directed their questions and updates.
As soon as I saw Em’s birth mom in the room I went up to her
and gave her a hug. She looked somewhat
surprised and a little relieved. Maybe she thought I was going to chew her out
or place blame. I’m not normally a
hugger, but l felt an undeniable prompting to be gentle and loving and it’s
like some force outside of myself was propelling me to make that gesture.
Em had at least one IV hooked up to her as well as an oxygen
mask over her face. The dr explained
that her oxygen was low on arrival. Apparently they also had also inserted a
catheter and had to cut into some of her clothes.
“I told them she has POTS,” Em’s birth mom exclaimed . . . but I
don’t know which medications she’s on.”
When the nurses made room and it was safe to do so my husband moved to
Em’s bed and held her hand and began talking to her. Although she was still pretty out of it, she
was able to squeeze his hand to let him know she could hear him. Meanwhile, I sat down in a chair next to a
nurse at a computer and started rattling off all of Em’s medications as well as
her diagnoses. Em’s birth mom looked a
little intimidated and flustered in a way.
The good news is that Em only had to spend about four hours
in the ER that morning before becoming stable enough to be discharged and come
home. I felt bad that I had to cancel my
clients that day- although I knew that none of them were in active crisis
situations. It felt good to stay home
with Em and take care of her because she’s at an age and stage in her life when
she wants to be so independent that she is somewhat resistant to letting me
care for her and she sees any attempts of doing so on my part as me trying to
“control” her while I view it as simply supporting her and being her parent.
The most concerning part of that day was not knowing exactly
what triggered Em’s episode- other than her history of POTS. Em’s birth mom
listed off everything to the hospital staff that Em had eaten the night before
and that morning – nothing new- and the only medication she had taken that
morning were her ADHD meds and some cold medicine as she was getting over being
sick. The doctor told us that he was a
little worried when first Em arrived at the ER because her glassy eyed look and
state of unresponsiveness reminded him of recent patients he had seen who have
come in after overdosing on Benadryl- even going so far as to hallucinate and
try and grab things that weren’t really there. But Em isn’t dumb enough to do
that.
A tox screen was done as well as other lab work and at least
one ultrasound to rule things out. No drugs or alcohol were involved. Maybe it was just a matter of Em’s body being
run down in the first place. And, of
course, morning coffee certainly doesn’t help with tachycardia symptoms (Em has
stated that’s one of the reasons she likes her birth mom’s house over ours- her
birth mom always has coffee and we don’t have any). Most of the time when Em has issues with
racing heart and dizziness it’s considered “pre-syncope”- feeling like she’s
going to pass out- but rarely does she get to the point of actually passing
out. We had a scary experience over the summer after she got her wisdom teeth
out and had a bad reaction to the anesthesia while recovering at home. We
couldn’t get her fully awake and when the paramedics arrived at our house and took
her blood pressure and heart rate and saw the results they immediately asked
“Which ER do you want us to take her to?”
The week after Em’s recent ER visit I followed up by getting
her in to a specialist who had seen her before who ordered a few more tests and
then went over treatment options, including reminders of the things she should
already be doing: drink plenty of water and electrolytes, increase salt intake,
avoid caffeine, wear compression socks or her abdominal binder, and continue in
physical therapy. No new medication will be prescribed until she does all those
things and they don’t relieve her symptoms. Em has done physical therapy previously to build
up her stamina as well as to help with hypermobility issues (it’s possible she
has Ehlers Danlos as well, but if so it’s a mild case). Although at the appointment she told the
nurse “I guess I could do PT again if it’s not on the days I exercise at school
in yoga class” (which would make her too tired to do both) when I tried making
an appointment for her a couple days later she said “I don’t have to go because
I’m 18 now.” But it’s part of your
recommended treatment plan!” I retorted. “I don’t want you to end up in
the ER or Instacare again!” (A
couple of weeks earlier she kept stumbling at school despite the fact that she
had eaten and worn her compression socks that day. It’s the weirdest thing to see happen because
her legs just “give out” and she looks like a drunk person walking. I thought she may have been dehydrated and
needed an IV which is why I took her to InstaCare, but by the time we saw the
dr her legs were well enough that she could get out of the wheelchair they put
her in when she arrived.)
It’s an awkward position to be in when you’re parenting an
18 year old who wants all the freedom of adulthood but not necessarily the
responsibilities that come with taking care of yourself and being independent. Speaking of being independent, Em has
expressed that if she does leave home after graduating from high school since
she already gave living with her birth mom a try and that didn’t work out as a
permanent option, she would like to move in with her boyfriend and his family. I try to remain calm and not overreact when
she brings it up, but when I ask logical questions like “Are you going to pay
rent?” “Are you going to pay for your
shampoo and makeup?” she just gets annoyed with me.
It also makes me wonder, “Is our house (and family) really
that bad?” Occasionally Em will dramatically
complain that “We don’t have any good food in the house! I bet ______ (my birth
mom) would take me to Chik-Fil-A right now if I asked!” I try to let complaints
like that slide and usually just end up rolling my eyes. Those reasons to move out seem so superficial
to me. But a couple of months ago Em did
bring up a legitimate reason that I honestly hadn’t considered from her
perspective. She mentioned that one of
the reasons she wanted to leave our house in the first place and live with her
birth mom is because our house can get so noisy- mostly because of when Jill
has meltdowns and yells. And although I’d like to say that I always remain calm
when my child is out of control- especially when she’s throwing things, hitting
or kicking us, or swearing at us- the truth is that sometimes I just get so
frustrated that I can’t help but yell back.
Last week Em had Senior Prom so she invited her birth mom
and biological half sister to our house before the dance to do her hair and
makeup. I was cordial, but tried giving
them their “space” as well- (even though it was in my own home). It’s an interesting dynamic but for now we’re
in a good place. I would love Em to
spend Easter weekend with our family but I also know that her birth mom has
talked about plans as well. I hate when
it feels like a competition.
