Yesterday morning at 5:30 am I quietly said goodbyes to both of my sleeping babies, resisting the urge to scoop them up to better kiss their faces and inhale their scents. “It’s only two and a half days” I told myself, they will barely even have time to miss me. I gathered my things and headed off to catch my train.

This weekend I’m attending the Midwest Mom’s Media Brands and Bloggers summit in Chicago. While I’m off learning how to better my blog and just generally focusing on a little me time my kids are spending a fun filled weekend with their dad and grandparents.

At least that was the plan.

At 6:30 am my husband called to tell me that Chase had woken up with a fever of 102.5. I could hear him sobbing in the background. I knew instantly that it was likely an ear infection and surely not a big deal and yet as I heard his hiccuping sobs all I wanted at that moment was to get off of that train and get back to him. I scolded myself for not having kissed him goodbye because surely I would have felt the fever radiating from his skin.

Ultimately I resisted the urge to get off at the next stop and make my way back to my in laws house. Instead, I gave instructions to my husband and did my best to soothe my son over the phone. I mentally kicked myself the entire train ride for not seeing all the signs in the last few days that should have signaled an oncoming sickness. I felt sick about how annoyed I’d been at his cranky behavior all week. I raked myself over the coals and back again.

I knew in my head that Chase was fine, his dad had everything completely under control. He took him to the walk-in clinic and sure enough he had a double ear infection and the makings for strep throat. He was given antibiotics and sent on his way to rest and recover at home. I was in contact with them all day, constantly calling to check in, getting calls to ask about Tylenol and Motrin doses. He had everything he needed and yet the pangs of guilt were with me all day.

Sometimes I think that the hardest part of being a stay-at-home mom is when I’m not actually there.