>I Love Croup

It was bound to happen, I suppose. After 13 months of indefatiguable robustness and health, Bruiser finally got sick. The diagnosis: Croup. Dreaded croup.

I remember when Punky got croup at two, I was a total basketcase. I spent nights by her crib, anxiously listening to every breath she drew. I spent hours sitting with her by the shower, trying to clear out her lungs with steam. I looked up ‘croup’ on the Internet a good hundred thousand times. Miraculously, the child lived.

This time around, it’s been, well, a different experience.

“Does he sound croupy when he breathes?” the nurse asked when I brought him in to the doctor’s office.

“I don’t know,” I said, abashed. “I forgot what croup sounds like. I was hoping he had an ear infection.” Ear infections, after all, are the best. They’re not contagious and that pink medicine clears them right up. Besides, I had plans to meet some friends at the zoo the next day and I didn’t want to cancel.

The nurse listened to Bruiser for a moment. “Croup,” she said decisively. “The doctor will be with you in a moment.”

I sighed heavily and Bruiser leaned his head against my chest. Absentmindedly, I stroked his hair, and then I stopped and looked down. He had been leaning on me for at least 30 seconds. This was, like, a new record. Feeling maternal, I wrapped my arms around him and held him close.

And that’s pretty much where he’s stayed for the last few days. The boy, for the first time ever, sits in my lap. He nuzzles. He hugs. He snuggles. He falls asleep while I hold him. He even, get this, lies still while I change his diaper. That in itself is enough cause to get out the video camera.

Today, fortunately, Bruiser on the road to recovery. He’s playing with his toys again, smiling, babbling happily, and trying to flip over on his tummy when it’s time for a diaper change. I’ve worried about him the last few days, of course, had the humidifier going around the clock in his room, let him take naps in his swing, and slept in his room the last two nights. I’ so glad he’s feeling better.

But when it’s all said and done? I sort of love croup. Croup let me see just how much my baby boy loves me, in much the same way that strep throat bonded me solidly to Punky shortly before she turned one. When they want nothing more than to lie on your chest for hours on end, when they burrow their faces into your neck and sigh deeply, when they wake up (in Bruiser’s case) for the first time ever calling, “Mama! Mama!”, well you know you’re the best medicine that there is for some childhood illnesses. You don’t want those illnesses to return, in fact, you dread them. But you secretly love feeling so needed, so wanted, and you know the two of you will get through those inevitable childhood illnesses together, in the way that only two people who love each other as much as they love anything in the world can.

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.