After her first six months of healthy living, I hate to say that Abby got sick for the first time this week. She had her six-month shots on Tuesday, and after that developed a mild fever. Friday, that fever added an incredibly stuffed nose … just shortly after mommy left town for a quick 24-hour trip, leaving the geeky dad in charge.
I’m sure you’ve all been there. The stopped-up nose prevented any breathing through the nose at all, which means she wouldn’t take her bottle, because for some reason, she refused to have both her nose AND mouth plugged up! Silly baby. So, by the alleged “bedtime,” I had a hungry, sick, sniffling, coughing, screaming little girl on my hands. Few times have I felt so remarkably helpless.
After a few reassuring calls to the traveling mommy and a few other panic-stricken, “what the crap do I do?” calls to my good friend, Holly (a pediatric nurse), I found myself rubbing Vicks on the baby’s chest, squirting Motrin and Benadryl in her mouth, and applying an extra dose of daddy love. Apparently, this potion worked, because she’s managed to sleep eight hours and counting … so far.
Parenting is hard. Parenting a poor, sick baby who can’t tell you what’s wrong and who doesn’t understand what’s happening to her normally healthy, active little body is extremely hard. I’ve definitely come to understand what people mean by, “This hurts me more than it hurts you.” It does. It really, really does. Poor kid.