Today marks 2 months since Juju and I took Emrys to the pediatric clinic with symptoms. His tiny feet were swollen. He was grunting. His breathing was rapid. He had a little bluish tint under his bottom lip. His belly was a bit distended. He couldn’t latch for breast feeding.
The medical assistant came in. We expressed our concerns. She checked Emrys’ temperature, length, and weight. He was 8.13 pounds, and was Just over 20 inches long. He had grown so much in just two and a half weeks. He looked so perfect.
Then the nurse practitioner came in the room. We expressed our concerns again. Though his feet were swollen, she poked his heel to draw the blood for his second PKU. And he cried so hard. Harder than we had ever heard. Baby boy was hurting. And my heart hurt.
We expressed our concerns again. The nurse practitioner said it was the formula. She said the symptoms would go away within a few days. She said to go back in a week.
But… Emrys didn’t have diarrhea. He didn’t vomit. He had no rash. I was confused, but pediatrics isn’t my specialty. So I trusted. Juju trusted.
He didn’t make it a week. His heart stopped beating while I was holding him after I got me ready to go to the emergency room. The formula was not the problem. It was his heart.
