We're very lucky.
Jack is the sort of child
we all assume we'll have
when we decide to have children,
and the sort of child
less experienced parents
congratulate themselves for.January and February 2004
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Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - (Mamma)
I am so lucky!
I have spent this week realizing just how lucky I am.
You see, Jack has coxsackievirus, also known as hand, foot, and mouth disease. (It would seem to have been a false alarm last time. This time, we have spotted the blisters.)
It starts out like any other viral infection, with a very runny nose and a misleadingly mild fever. Then comes the blisters and the whining. Oh the whining!
And the crying. Did I mention the crying? Endless, urgent, demanding cries: "Do Something, mamma! It Hurts! Do Something!"
The blisters can be on the palms of the hands, the soles of the feet, and/or the inside of the mouth. Jack opted for inside his mouth -- stealth blisters, as it were.
Did I mention the crying? Almost nonstop, and so intense that it made teething look like a picnic! Oh the crying...
So, anyway, Jack got a slightly runny nose on Saturday -- but he seemed fine and I figured it was an autumn cold. On Sunday, he was so congested that it took several baths and showers to clear him out so he could breathe to allow him to nap, but he really did seem fine otherwise.
Then, on Sunday evening, the crying started. It went on and on and on. Nothing helped. Not tylenol, not baths, not cuddling -- nothing. Not holding him, though, made it far worse.
Sunday evening isn't the best timing for non-stop crying. If we were negotiating this, Friday would have been far better. I got about three hours of sleep on Sunday night and went to work is a daze.
Monday, Jack continued to cry. All day in Dad's arms he sobbed and made it clear that he was extremely unhappy. He finally cheered up when it was time to go get Mamma -- but when getting Mamma wasn't the panacea he was expected, he started to cry again.
Dad dropped us off at home and went off to work. Jack cheered up again briefly when we went to feed the ducks -- but before long, he was crying again.
Now one of the (many) reasons I am a strong proponent of extended nursing is that nursing cures virtually all ills and it makes the toddler years much easier for everyone. Jack was asking to nurse a lot more often than usual, but it gradually dawned on me that he wasn't staying on very long, and it didn't seem to help him like it usually would.
He did eventually fall asleep -- at about 11. I dropped into an exhausted sleep, only to be awakened four hours later by an adorable, tiny boo-bear standing behind me, leaning over me, and saying "hot" "hot" very earnestly into my face. When I woke up and took off his pajama top, he started to cry.
It was during this interval, that we eventually figured out that Jack had blisters in his mouth. I don't remember how -- but at that point it dawned on me that "hot" in this case means "hurts" and that this was the dreaded cosaxievirus .
At about four, Dad and I decided that we might as well go for a drive, since that usually soothes the boy. At about six, we gave up, and I ran upstairs and dressed for work, and we went off to drop me off at work.
All morning, Jack was an exhausted, cranky, sobbing challenge. Nothing was good enough. Nothing. Saint Rodney bore up as well as one could hope for from any parent. Jacky got a little more cheerful as the day wore on -- and he was actually pretty charming while he and Dad ran errands in the morning. Eventually it was time to come and get me.
Again, Dad dropped us off at home and went off to work. This time, Jack was somewhat more cheerful for the early part of the evening. We washed laundry together, we cleaned up the parlour together, and we washed the dishes! Then we went out to feed the ducks. (Jack had requested that we feed the ducks several times in the hours before our usual visit time, so an hour before we usually go, I agreed that we could go early.
Then we came home and bathed -- and it was looking very promising for Jack to go down early -- what a blessed thought! I was/am exhausted! Jack did indeed ask to start our bedtime routine as soon as he was bathed and his teeth brushed. So we did.
I noticed though, that he kept popping off the breast to say "hot", and he seemed restless. It was far from hot -- it was actually quite cold out, and we had the window open, as is our custom. I was too exhausted to think about it very hard, but clearly he was in pain and nursing was aggravating the blisters. Although it took a lot longer than usual, Jack did eventually fall asleep. So did I.
The remainder of the evening/night is a blur since at this point, since I have had about 10 hours sleep over the course of three nights.
Dad came home from work around midnight, and stood chatting with me at the foot of the bed, when our little boy popped up like a Jack-in-the-box. I shooshed Dad and sent him away, and tried to nurse Jack back to sleep. After an hour, it seemed to have worked. I got up to join Rod for supper -- and before I knew it, Jack was calling me from the bedroom.
I tried again to nurse him down, but he just kept saying "hot" and sitting up -- not at all willing to nurse, nor even to lie down.
After trying unsuccessfully to convince him to let me sleep, I eventually took him out for a drive in hopes that he'd sleep. Two hours later, I was taking a sleepy, but not sleeping, boy out of his car seat -- he was still clutching the teddybear he'd grabbed on the way out of the bedroom! We went to bed, and he did indeed fall asleep. I think. I was gone as soon as my head hit the pillow -- the next thing, I knew, though, it was 6am -- two hours later! I got as much sleep last night as I'd had in the remainder of the week!
So...why am I lucky?
I am lucky because I remember parenting a child for whom this was not unusual.
I am lucky because I have a little boy who sleeps through the night most nights!
I am lucky because I have a partner who I trust more than I trust myself with a crying baby! I can go to work and know that the little guy is in good hands!
I am lucky because Jack is usually so healthy.
And I am lucky because just as I got to the point of wanting to give the little darling back to the gypsies, he started to feel better -- he was a charming little guy this morning, and so far I haven't seen any tears.
Now...I hope he's charmingly sleepy come bedtime!
Update: Rod tells me that he has spent most of the afternoon crying again. Oh dear.
