Pobrecita

So, having a baby is exhausting. And I mean to blog a lot more than I do.

Even more exhausting than having a baby is having a sick baby. No fun.


Crying on one of the earliest of her sick days. She says, "I need my grandpa!!"

Pobrecita.

For about a week, little Rachel got more and more fussy and unhappy. This was both an individual day thing (she'd be happy in the morning and crying constantly in the evening) and over time (each day was worse than the day before). It was pretty bad.

We just thought she had gas--because she sure had a lot of it.

Finally, after a day where she only slept for a half hour at a time, I told Andrew we had to call the doctor.

I was bracing myself to stop drinking milk. If you know me, you know that is one of the biggest sacrifices for me. I LOVE LOVE LOVE milk. But I guess I could live with soy milk... if Rachel were back to her happy self.

The day I called the pediatrician was horrible. The nurse wasn't in yet, so I didn't make an appointment. Two hours later, Rachel was screaming the worst, painful scream I had heard. I called the doctor and got an appointment an hour later. And she snuggled and whimpered for that hour. It was so so sad. I would have gladly taken her pain on myself (FYI--being a mother is super insightful into the love of Christ and Heavenly Father for all of us).

Pobrecita.

They weighed her and measured her (7 lbs. 8 oz. and 20 inches woot woot! What a chunker.). And then they needed to take her temperature. The nurses thought it was an ear infection. And I thought, "Duh, why didn't I think of that?" So the temperature. Rachel is too small for an ear thermometer, so the lucky girl got to have her temperature taken rectally. As I said before, pobrecita. But she is tough and didn't mind it too much and didn't even poop all over everything.

A few minutes later she started screaming and I couldn't console her so I fed her. And she was happy.

Then the doctor came in and looked in her ears. Perfect ears.

He then looked in her mouth. "Ah ha," he said in his Hoboken, New Jersey, accent, "It's thrush."

Thrush is a yeast infection in the mouth. There was white stuff all over her mouth. It can be quite painful.

So then I went to get an antibiotic for her. She has to have 1 mL in the morning and 1 mL at night. (Sidenote: Andrew has a cold and he took 30 mL of the cold medicine. Not only are parents like 20 times the size of their babies, they also take 30 times the amount of medicine.)

And now Rachel is so happy. The night I first gave her the antibiotic, I could notice a different. Maybe that is the placebo effect, but I think it dulled her pain or something. She's even smiling.


Ahh, drugs. This is after her first dose. So peaceful.


Loving the Sunday nap. Now she can actually nap again.


Tummy time on mom is super boring. Now she will do tummy time and not freak out like I'm killing her.


Mom, that flash on your phone is absurdly bright.


Did you ever see such a cute baby? No. You have not and never will. See, now she smiles!

And that is the story of my pobrecita. I have since sanitized all her binkies, bottle nipples, and medicine syringes. I may even have melted a few.

The moral of the story is that a not sick baby is a happy baby and means a happy mom who actually likes being a mom.