10. When My Baby Got Sick for the First Time

I knew it would happen eventually. But I wasn’t ready.

The first fever crept in slowly—warm forehead, fussier-than-usual cries, that eerie, glazed look in his eyes. My stomach dropped. I was calm for all of five minutes before the panic set in.

What if it’s something serious? What if I miss a sign? What if he needs to go to the hospital?

I took his temperature a dozen times, each one confirming the obvious. I hovered. I held him for hours, pressing my cheek against his hot skin, wishing I could take the fever myself. I called the pediatrician and wrote everything down like I was taking notes for a final exam.

Sleep? Forget it. I spent the night half-awake, checking on him every hour, watching his chest rise and fall, praying for morning to come.

It was awful.

And yet—there was something in those long, feverish days that deepened my bond with him. He needed me in a way he hadn’t before. Not just for food or comfort, but for presence. For stability. For love.

And somehow, I rose to meet it.

He got better, of course. And I’ll never forget the moment his little laugh came back, or how he perked up and reached for a toy like nothing had ever happened.

But I had changed. I came out of it more confident, more intuitive, more in tune with my baby’s needs.

Parenthood is full of firsts—some beautiful, some terrifying. But every time we walk through one, we come out the other side a little braver.

So if you’re in the thick of it, thermometer in one hand and tears in your eyes, you are not alone. You are not doing it wrong. You are exactly who your baby needs.

You’ve got this.