I Remember This
Sigh.
Our little Tweetie's been sick the last few days. Nothing terribly serious, just the way an average cold can knock a little one down to a place where all they want is to be held. The Bear was in Vancouver, so I've been off work the last couple of days looking after her. She's been fighting a fever, so the nights have been long, with regular checks on temperature and comfort sessions to soothe her until the meds kick in and she's able to go back to bed.
Thursday evening, she spat up a bit of bottle after a coughing fit. Just enough to slime both my hoodie and the shirt underneath through the open zip neck. I remember that smell. Yesterday, her first bottle went down slow, and shortly thereafter came back fast, with a full payload of mucous. A change of clothes for her was followed by a couple of rounds of mild diarrhea. Mild as in not shooting out of every crevice, but still messy enough on the one to make it simpler to just take her to the bath tub to peel off the layers and clean her up. Whereupon she backed her not yet hosed off backside into my pants. A change of clothes for both of us. This, too, seems familiar.
Last night, the fever was a little less persistent - she resisted taking any meds - but the coughing had kicked in full force. Which meant I saw every hour of the night until two, then four and six. And cleaned the floor up twice along the way.
She's slumped over my shoulder as I write this, mostly asleep with occasional quiver, squirm or cry. As her Mama, I'm happy to do whatever I can to comfort her, help her to rest and get over this bug. Happier still that just my presence is comfort to her. And my mind goes back to a little over a year ago when all of these 'challenges' were just a regular part of daily life caring for my very dependent little baby girl.
And then, of course, it goes forward a few months, when once again my life will revolve almost completely around the care of a little newborn. I remember this, and it doesn't scare me so much this time. I also remember the joys of first smiles and other little contacts. I look at how much has changed with Tweetie since those early days. And I hope, and pray, that I've learned a thing or two that will help a few things go smoother this time.
I'm also conscious of God's grace right now. I've been able to sleep a bit with her during the day, and my lower back, which has been very touch the last couple of weeks, has given me very little grief since Wednesday when I picked up Tweetie (it was particularly bad for most of that day at work). Grace, too, I remember, and I know it will be there, too.
It's all good.
Our little Tweetie's been sick the last few days. Nothing terribly serious, just the way an average cold can knock a little one down to a place where all they want is to be held. The Bear was in Vancouver, so I've been off work the last couple of days looking after her. She's been fighting a fever, so the nights have been long, with regular checks on temperature and comfort sessions to soothe her until the meds kick in and she's able to go back to bed.
Thursday evening, she spat up a bit of bottle after a coughing fit. Just enough to slime both my hoodie and the shirt underneath through the open zip neck. I remember that smell. Yesterday, her first bottle went down slow, and shortly thereafter came back fast, with a full payload of mucous. A change of clothes for her was followed by a couple of rounds of mild diarrhea. Mild as in not shooting out of every crevice, but still messy enough on the one to make it simpler to just take her to the bath tub to peel off the layers and clean her up. Whereupon she backed her not yet hosed off backside into my pants. A change of clothes for both of us. This, too, seems familiar.
Last night, the fever was a little less persistent - she resisted taking any meds - but the coughing had kicked in full force. Which meant I saw every hour of the night until two, then four and six. And cleaned the floor up twice along the way.
She's slumped over my shoulder as I write this, mostly asleep with occasional quiver, squirm or cry. As her Mama, I'm happy to do whatever I can to comfort her, help her to rest and get over this bug. Happier still that just my presence is comfort to her. And my mind goes back to a little over a year ago when all of these 'challenges' were just a regular part of daily life caring for my very dependent little baby girl.
And then, of course, it goes forward a few months, when once again my life will revolve almost completely around the care of a little newborn. I remember this, and it doesn't scare me so much this time. I also remember the joys of first smiles and other little contacts. I look at how much has changed with Tweetie since those early days. And I hope, and pray, that I've learned a thing or two that will help a few things go smoother this time.
I'm also conscious of God's grace right now. I've been able to sleep a bit with her during the day, and my lower back, which has been very touch the last couple of weeks, has given me very little grief since Wednesday when I picked up Tweetie (it was particularly bad for most of that day at work). Grace, too, I remember, and I know it will be there, too.
It's all good.
posted by Coastal at
11:16 a.m.
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