Last night as I tried to get the baby to fall back to sleep, and failed over and over again, I felt great sympathy for parents of sick children, the ones who are really sick. How awful it must be to watch as your child is in pain and you can’t do anything about it. I started to cry, not for myself, but for them. As if I need more reasons to cry.
My Uncle Stephen is in the hospital with clots in his lung. From what I can tell he is going to be okay but my family has a way of filtering information to me so that it doesn’t sound serious and then I find out later it really is. Please pray, or something, for him. We have a tradition in our family that someone’s always in the hospital over Christmas and we’d like to break that.
But last night my spirit was broken by the sick baby and what he represented. Brady has a sweet and happy personality and even when he started to get sick yesterday he still wanted to play. He didn’t nap until 3pm and then only for a short time. He went to bed at 8pm and he was OUT. Thank God, I thought, he will finally get some rest.
Meanwhile I was still pretty sick and Stewart had gone to the drug store to pick up my ill-gotten antibiotics (sidebar – does anybody know if amoxicillin is supposed to smell like sulfur?) so mentally I was feeling better but physically I was still gasping for air and – excuse me – coughing up giant green chunks of goo. I was really looking forward to sleeping.
But at 12:30 AM Brady popped awake with a scream and didn’t go back to sleep until Four. Thirty. In the morning.
During those four waking hours, I rocked him, snuggled him, replaced his pacifier about 1,000 times, wiped his nose (at 7.5 months he already hates this), patted his back, rubbed his head, etc. etc. ad nauseam. I even whipped out the snot sucker because the poor thing was trying to suck on his pacifier and breathe through the mucus that was clogging his nose. He sounded like a pig underwater. Stewart had gone to sleep on the couch long before, and Kyle kept waking up at the sound of Brady’s crying, but I had to do it. Brady screamed like I was sucking out his brain, but at the end of it all he could breathe better and fell back to sleep.
For two hours.
At six thirty he was up for the day! Good morning! Feed me! I felt like my head was on fire and my body groaned for more sleep, so after I nursed him Stewart took him out to the living room and I slept until 8. Now I am waiting for the doctor’s office to open so I can get him in there, because I am worried he has an ear infection. Better to catch it early, even if it means I will run on the fumes of the delicious coffee Stewart made for me. Wish me luck.
ALSO: It just occurred to me that I haven’t posted pictures of Kyle in several days. Here he is, in a box. Note, there are no green eggs and ham.
I am sending good thoughts for your uncle; how scary. And also for you and your sick children; I hope you all feel better soon. I think I remember amoxicillin pills being stinky when I’ve taken them before also… you could call your pharmacist for a definite answer.
Kimmy – We will keep your entire family in our prayers. Please also remember my employee’s family. His wife has been battling intense pre-term labor for 3 days now. They are on the last drug to try to stop it. Their baby girl is at 26 weeks….
Thanks. Love to all.
suz
Seems we’re running parallel again. Erin is just getting over a cold – but hers was in the back of her nose & throat. Despite the nasty blue bulb nothing ever came out, just rattled around in there making the same noises Brady is making while sucking his pacifier. And Luke is still playing with Boxy the robot. The darned thing is ready to fall apart but he’s not ready to get rid of it.