Around 12:30am, as I was just starting to watch Spartacus, I heard my son cried and saw him scratching his stomach, face and armpit. I opened the light and was shocked to see red patches on his stomach, huge and embossed. They looked like ant bites. On his face and armpits were little red patches, too. In a wisp, the queen of panic rises once again. I felt my voice shaking as I try to awaken my boy. My eyes were teary and my chest pounding crazy. I held my boy and ran to my parents' house. I knocked hysterically on the door as my son cried even more. When my mom saw me, she tried to calm me down. She said it's alright and that we still have anti-histamine in the fridge in case it's an allergic reaction. Then she helped me give my son the medication. After that, we went home and it took about twenty more minutes before he's back to slumber. All I did was panic, and pray.
In the morning, mom went to our room, and bombarded me with lessons on calmness, grace and motherhood perils. Maybe next time I won't panic anymore. Just maybe..
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