Raising Maine

My daughter, Olivia has croup. Croup is a respiratory infection that can be either viral or bacterial, and is most commonly known for it’s cough and fever, the onset of which are sudden and often at night. If you’ve never heard a croup cough, take my word for it that it’s terrible: a dry, barking hack that usually culminates in a series of raspy gasps for air called striders. It can be scary.

It scared me last night for sure. This is my first experience with croup as my son spent most of his first two years without so much as a cold. Olivia showed absolutely no signs yesterday of being the slightest bit sick. Not even the beginnings of a runny nose. So it was a huge surprise to me last night to hear her harsh horrible cough within an hour of going to bed.

The cough progressed as the night went on, waking her in three hour increments. The first waking/cough bout left her so uncomfortable that she just sat in bed, unable to lie down. For a half hour, I would go check on her in ten minute intervals to find her just sitting there, looking exhausted and sad. I had set up a humidifier, hoping it would do the trick; it helped but wasn’t enough to soothe her completely. Eventually I gave in and cuddled with her to get her to relax back into sleep, which worked only until the next coughing spell a few hours later.

At four a.m. we woke to her coughing and now burning up. I took her temp under her arm and found she was close to 102, the highest fever either of my children have had. I later learned at my doctor’s visit today that typically an “underarm read” of the thermometer is actually about 1 degree less than the actual temperature which means she was closer to 103. Yikes!

After talking to the after-hours nurse and my pediatrician today, I have a gameplan on how to handle the next few nights with her to keep her comfortable. Tylenol to keep her fever low. Humidifier to keep the air moist. An elevated mattress to keep her congestion at bay. Honey to soothe the throat. And plenty of fluids!

But perhaps the biggest, most crucial part of my gameplan is to have an expectation that I will be up with her throughout the night. The onset of croup is so jarring and unexpected that it just throws you into a worried tailspin that first night. Now that I know that I have four or five more days of coughing nights ahead of me, at least I can plan mentally for interrupted sleep and taking action to help her.

As a final piece of advice, my pediatrician recommended that if she wakes with a cough and subsequent strider breathing, my husband and I should wake together, one of us taking her into the bathroom and running a steamy shower for fifteen minutes, the other warming a blanket in the dryer. Following the steam, we will bundle her in the warmed blanket and take her outside for a few minutes to breathe the clear, cool night air. Sounds strange but several of my mom friends who’ve experienced croup have also recommended the steam and cool air combo.

I hope it doesn’t come to that – if anything, I’d love for her to just sleep through the night. But in the large likelihood that she doesn’t, at least it seems the cosmos are on my side tonight in helping me with my waking gameplan because it will be providing me with a beautiful display of Orionids, spawned by Haley’s comet, to enjoy while snuggling with my bundled babe on the porch. I guess if you’re going to be up all night with a sick baby, there are worse ways to spend those midnight hours than watching a dazzling meteor shower.