I originally told myself that by a month’s time things would have settled down enough for me to write, first the birth story, followed by the post-birth story, and so on. Then it was six weeks, three months, four months… skipped five months as a goal, and now six months I gave myself as a hard deadline because the next big leap would be a year and I just can’t excuse not updating for a whole year’s time. Then a true and proper excuse befell us – the family got sick.
Friday Cameron had a bit of a cough, and at bedtime he was feeling warm. 101 point something fever according to the temporal thermometer (which I now know how to use properly, by taking the cap off first). Cameron hates the thermometer and tries to turn his head out of the way because he has no concept of what the alternative would be. (*cough*rectal*cough*)
Cameron’s bedtime is 9pm and mine is about 1am. Starting at 1:30 he started waking up crying every hour or so needing me to comfort and nurse him back to sleep. This is one of those times that I felt like a real mother because I knew what to do to actively take care of my baby. It’s also one of those times that I felt the inequality behind parenting, because as the holder of the Magic Boobs I am the one, by necessity, getting up in the middle of the night. There’s no ‘I got him last time’ when you’re full-time breastfeeding.
The longest stretch of sleep we both got was between 4 and 7am, when it had then crossed the morning threshold where I’m comfortable bringing Cameron into bed to sleep-nurse. Unfortunately he didn’t agree and we were up up for the day while daddy slept. I was doing math in my head trying to figure out what time I could wake him up to take over without feeling guilty (because Andrew has quite the ability to sleep through my staring and willing him to wake up on his own.) I decided on 9, and after explaining that I didn’t care if Cameron slept as long as I could, I climbed back into bed alone for a couple hours then a couple more with a nursing Cameron next to me. After getting some sleep I thought we were surviving his first cold pretty well.
Originally were were going to be leaving Cameron with Shannon to babysit on Saturday while we went to a going-away party that had been deemed Not-Child-Friendly. I didn’t want to leave him alone even though he seemed a lot better and in a good mood, though somewhat clingy, understandably. Luckily the party had been extended through the weekend and we rescheduled for Sunday. We got to play a few games and there didn’t seem to be any screaming involved. Yay! (Every time I worried I had to remind myself that Shannon has a lot more parenting experience than I do. She even got him to nap.)
Well over those few days I felt a little phlegmy, a bit of a cough myself, but I never progress past the ‘getting a cold’ phase of getting a cold so I didn’t even think anything of it. It hit me, pretty much at once, last night. My head started feeling woozy, which is the best word I can think of for the feeling that makes me think if it were being depicted on a show like House there would be a jarring camera effect and sound effect to illustrate every time I stood up or moved my head. It feels a little like I’m in danger of falling over when upright, but also like it would be overdramatic to imply that might actually happen. It’s been so long since I’ve come down with a full-blown cold I started off thinking this must be something worse, but after some Tylenol and sleep and more Tylenol I have to admit that this is what the people in the cold medicine commercials seem to feel like.
Today Andrew started in with the sore throat and stuffy nose, and Andrew never skips out on a cold. He brought home the good orange juice and Kleenex.
Meanwhile Cameron has progressed onto the sneezy, gross phase of his illness. I have to check to see if he needs his face wiped every time he sneezes, hopefully before his hands get involved. Baby sneezes are adorable, but sad when he’s not feeling well. The coughing is even sadder when it comes through the monitor. Still, I’m hoping he’ll stay asleep on his own because I’m also experiencing the reality that moms don’t get sick days. Or nights.
So maybe I do have an excuse if I don’t post for a year. I did have a baby, after all.