The Calm Before The Storm
It was a chilly morning in late October. We were starting out with our usual weekday routine: waking up early to get Maurice ready for kindergarten, fixing the baby a bottle, and trying to let my two-year-old sleep without being disturbed.
The aroma of bacon and eggs filled the air as I made Maurice's favorite breakfast. I could hear him singing along to Blue's Clues. I had been separated from my kid's father for a while. We had been in love once, but when we started having children, everything changed. He was in and out of jail and in and out of the children's lives. He was incarcerated at the time, so we were living with my dad. My dad and I had always been very close. He watched my youngest kids while I dropped Maurice off at school.
"want me to walk you in?" I asked Maurice as we pulled up to the school. "No, Mom," he said with spunk. "I'm a big boy. I can find my class."
I smiled.
"I know you are, sweetie, " I replied. "I'll see you this afternoon!"
"Okay! I love you!" he called as he jumped out of the car.
I waved and blew him a kiss. I got home, said good-bye to my dad, and started the day with my two little ones, Malik and Mariah. I got them fed, did a few loads of laundry, and checked the clock. It was almost time to pick Maurice up.
I had to get him out of school a little early that day. The flu had been going around, and I had finally made him an appointment to get his flu shot. I was dreading it because I knew Maurice hated needles, but his pediatrician had recommended he receive the vaccine.
I often think about that day; I can see Maurice and I walking hand in hand to the car. "But, Mom, I'm in the middle of an art project. I don't want to go get a shot," he stated persistently.
Looking back, I wish there could have been some type of altering force that changed our course to the clinic that afternoon. Perhaps a flat tire, getting a traffic ticket---anything so he wouldn't have taken the immunization shot.
When we arrived at the health center, I looked around for my Aunt Carol. She agreed to meet me up there so Malik and Mariah could stay in the waiting area while I went back with Maurice. I finally spotted her.
"Thanks for coming, Carol," I said, handing Mariah over to her.
"It's no trouble," she said. She looked around the clinic. "Wow! There are a lot of kids here!"
"Yeah, evidently the flu is spreading like wildfire," I said, writing Maurice's name on the sign-in sheet. "Maybe it's good he's getting his shot. I would hate for him to get sick."
We sat in the waiting area, and Maurice started flipping through the pages of a Highlights magazine. Finally, after waiting what seemed like an hour, I heard the nurse call Maurice's name.
"Let's go, baby," I said.
He reluctantly put down the magazine and took my hand. I could tell he was nervous as he watched the nurse very carefully leading us back to the exam room.
"Okay, Ms. Mouille, can you have your son sit on your lap, please?" the nurse asked.
Before I could even look at Maurice, he was already positioning himself on top of my thighs. I could feel his little hands shaking. He stared at the nurse's back as she prepped the injection.
"You're going to be fine," I whispered in his ear.
"Okay," the nurse said, turning around with the needle in her hand. Maurice tensed up and grasped my fingers firmly.
"Just look at your mommy, Maurice," the nurse requested.
Maurice nodded.
"I'm right here," I said soothingly.
"Here we go," the nurse said. "One, two, three."
When she reached three, the needle went into his arm. He let out a loud scream, and I noticed a few tears run down his cheeks.
"Gosh, babe," I said, "you screamed so loud you almost broke my ears."
"That just hurt me really bad," he said, sniffling.
"He may run a slight fever," the nurse said as she put a bandage on the injection site. "Just give him a little Tylenol, and he should be fine."
"I shouldn't expect anything else?" I asked.
"Nope, that's it. He should be fine." the nurse replied, guiding us back to the front.
Unbeknownst to me at this moment, those four words uttered by the nurse would come back to haunt me.
Maurice was still wiping away tears as we walked out to the car.
"How about we go to McDonald's for lunch since you were such a brave boy?" I suggested to him.
He smiled big and nodded.
"Let's go!" I said, taking his hand in mine, as we ran to the car excitedly. My aunt came with us, and we ate lunch while Maurice played. I can still see him running around the play area, laughing loudly. I had no idea, in just a matter of hours, that my firstborn son would be in the fight of his life.
Once we made it back home, I noticed a little children's Bible lying on the coffee table. I opened it up and read the inscription aloud "To Maurice. You are a great boy. I know you will enjoy these stories. Love, Mema."
Maurice was instantly drawn to the Bible and couldn't take his eyes off the brightly colored pictures arrayed throughout the inside. He carried the book around and didn't want to put it down. I didn't think about it then, but looking back, there seemed to be a deeper meaning behind Maurice receiving that gift on this particular day. Maybe it was meant to provide him comfort through the events that were about to transpire.
Later that evening, Maurice started running a high fever. I was rotating Children's Tylenol and Motrin to control it and trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. I figured this was normal. After all, the nurse said we could expect a fever.
I put Maurice to bed a little earlier that night, hoping he'd feel better with a good night's rest. I read him a Bible story from the book my grandmother had brought, gave him a kiss, and turned off the light.
"Mom, can I sleep with the Bible under my pillow?" he asked as I started to close his door.
"Of course you can. Good night, sweetie," I whispered back.
I went to bed soon after, falling asleep to the sound of the television.
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