Baby jail: the explanation

My baby has not been in jail. Let's just clear that up from the start.

And now, for the story:

Michael should know not to mess with Amy.

Last week, he corrected her spelling in a post on Facebook. This came after she said she wouldn’t post a picture he didn’t like. Seriously, I don’t know what came over him. She does him a solid and he goes and corrects her spelling. (Is “does him a solid,” even a saying? I feel like it is… I’m sure Michael will correct me if I’m wrong.)

Anyway, this led to an all-out war on FB between the two. Instead of posting the picture he feared, she posted this gem:

And she encouraged people to make it their cover photo on FB. And many, many people did. So this picture of baby Michael started popping up all over Facebook.

I must admit that this is one of my all-time favorite Michael pictures. Those cheeks! Those hands! So much to love about this little baby! But the one thing that’s not to love is the fact that he looks like he’s in baby jail. Which he is not.

See, in 1995, baby Michael and I joined Sean on a business trip to Detroit. I was anxious to show off my first-born to several friends, so while Sean went to his meetings, we went to ours. We visited one of my college professors and his family and one of my favorite friends from college, Kris. When we were at Kris’s house I realized Michael sounded like he’d picked up a cold. He was very congested. Normal cold stuff, I thought. But when I called my mom later that night and she heard his breathing, she said I needed to get him to a doctor right away.

Now people, that is a skilled mom. From 800 miles away she diagnosed a problem. Granted, she didn’t know what problem it was, but she knew something wasn’t right.

Her concern scared us, so we took him to the ER in Pontiac. Good thing we did, because when they tested his oxygen levels, he was in the low 80’s. You should be in the 95 – 100 range.

He was immediately admitted and diagnosed with RSV. And there we stayed for five days. Just me, Sean and Michael-man in a land far away from our own pediatrician. But as God does, he provided a doctor who took great care of Michael. This doctor also happened to be the chief doctor of the whole dang hospital who just happened to be around when we were admitted and took an interest in the young couple with the precious sick baby. Talk about being in good hands. 

The doctors and nurses nicknamed Michael, “The Happy Wheezer,” because he was so pleasant despite how truly sick he was. He slept at night and even took his naps – there were times he slept through his breathing treatment.

We received great care and I still have the school bus bag they sent home with us. The only downside was the metal crib. I’m sure they have to be like that for hygiene reasons, but dang, they were cold and unfriendly looking. Plus, it made it look like my baby was in jail. Which he was not.

So that’s the story about the baby Michael picture that is circulating on Facebook. And again, just to clarify, he was not in baby jail.

For Michael, I’m pretty sure the moral of this story is don’t correct your sister’s spelling. For Amy and Rebecca it should be: I have adorable baby picture of y’all and I’m not afraid to post them.