For much of his short, little life, Ian has been on medicine for acid reflux. Originally I hated the thought of giving my baby medicine, but it provided him such relief that I learned to be grateful for the option.

The medicine is supposed to be given four times a day before a feeding. Sounds easy enough, but those four doses often could be challenging for Mommy and Daddy to remember. Once Ian was down to a solid 6 meals a day, we developed a good system wherein we gave him his dose at all of his “inside” meals: i.e., not the first nor the last meal of the day.

Of course, once we went down to 5 meals, we lost our groove (is it possible to have a medicine groove?).

A couple of weeks ago, I gave Ian his medicine and his bottle and then put him to sleep for the night. A few minutes after he fell asleep, I realized that I had given him an extra dose of meds that day.

At first I figured, hey, no big deal. He started on this dosage when he was several pounds lighter, so logically he can handle more of the medicine now. But then my mind starting churning. What if it DID make a difference? I mean, this is MY CHILD, it’s not like put too much baking powder in cookies.

I think about calling poison control, and my mind develops two scenarios — one involving them sending a racing ambulance with paramedics who laugh at me for worrying two much, and the other involving me trying to give Ian ipecac to get him to throw up the extra medicine. Ummmmmm, no thanks.

Where to turn? The pediatrician’s office is closed, and they don’t have a nurse line. I could call my pediatrician at home, but I hate to disturb him if this is no big deal. Hey! My husband’s company has a nurseline; I’ll call them! Hmmm……looooooong wait…………..waiting…….waiting………DON’T THEY KNOW MY BABY COULD BE DYING?!!!!!?!?!

Okay, the pharmacy, they would know. Argh! They closed 5 minutes ago!

At this point, feeling rather sheepish but determined to keep Ian safe, I call a 24-hour pharmacy.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, I don’t have a prescription there but I’m hoping you can help me with the question anyway????” (“Yes, I said it as a question.)

“What can I help you with?”

“I gave my baby an extra dose of cimetidine, and I need to know if that’s okay.”

“Well, let me get you the number for poison control….”

So it comes down to it. Looks like I’m calling poison control anyway.

“Hello — poison control.”

“Hi! I gave my baby an extra dose of cimetidine, and I need to know if he’ll be okay.”

“How much does your baby weigh and what was the dose? Oh, yes, ma’am, he’ll be just fine.”

That was it. No ambulance, no ipecac. Just a very intelligent, very helpful staffer who probably had a handy dandy computer program to look things up for panicked callers.

I had no idea that calling poison control would be such a positive experience. They’re, like, my best friends now. Maybe I’ll call them again this week.

Actually, I hope I never call them again. But I’m glad they’re there.