Sunday, February 1, 2009

Sniffles and Coughs

My Itty Bitters is sick.

Sick, sick, sick.

She began coughing on Tuesday and then began to gag up the nasty nosey stuff on Thursday and run a fever so we took her in.

Two urgent care visits,
Two doctor hot line calls,
one round of tears each for Curt and I,
One round of stomach destroying antibiotics later....

She's finally on the mend. But she essentially ate NOTH-ING from Thursday night till Sunday morning.

It is so hard when your child is sick. Especially when they are sicker than just the sniffles. You HATE the sickness. You get depressed and hopeless. You panic over small things because even though they are 14 months old, this is still a first! Not eating? Not nursing? For three days?

You question every decision. You decide to switch antibiotics. Then you decide to give the next dose. You decide you are definitely taking her into the ER if she coughs (and cries from the pain of coughing) another hour. Then you decide the cough is calming down. You decide to risk waking her to take her temperature. Then you convince yourself the temperature is down.

And you just worry, worry, worry. You call in backup. Granny was in town (thank God) yesterday to help and Mimi just TOOK Anna away today. Anna was feeling well enough and after days of worrying and being coughed on, Curt and I were sick and dragging.

And the worst part? She still won't nurse. I'll hold her and she'll literally take my shirt and pull it back down and say "no" in her cute baby voice. I'm still holding out hope that this is still a sickness thing. But if we're done with nursing, I'm not sure I'm ready. The mom in me is screaming "Nnnnnooooooooo!" in my frantic mommy voice. I always said I'd nurse her till she was ready to stop but this feel SO young.

The insecure part of me is worried that nursing was the ONE thing I could do that made me "the mommy". I know it's silly, but my fear is telling me that once I stop nursing, there's nothing that sets me apart from anyone else. Will she even come to me when she hurts herself? Will she reach for me when in an unfamiliar place?

My brain says "of course" but the mommy in me wants assurance.

That assurance was nursing.

Oh well. I'll accept that she's done (and celebrate by letting her spend the night at Mimi and Papa's soon... Oh yes. No baby, just hubby,) but I will mourn the passing of our special nursing times. And I'll try to not panic that she's getting older.


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