After just one night, as the second evening approached, the camp called. It was the nurse.
“Jack has a stomach ache. Is this normal?”
Jack is our baby. He’s 11. He’s a mama’s boy. And he’s at sleep away camp.
My heart is aching.
She has me talk to him.
“What is it, Jacko?” I ask.
He’s crying. “My stomach really, really hurts.”
“Did you poop yesterday… today?” I ask.
“No. It just hurts.”
Then he mumbles something.
“What?” I ask.
“Never mind,” he says. “Nothing.”
My heart is breaking. I want to go get him. That would make me feel better. But it’s probably not what’s good for him.
I put on my big girl/big mama panties. “Well, how ‘bout you lay low tonight, and if you still have a stomach ache in the morning, have the nurse call me back.”
“With a wavering voice, he says, “Okay.”
I talk to the nurse again. He has no fever. No tenderness anywhere. She’ll call if needed, in the morning. Otherwise, no news is good news.
Oh, this hurts.