This has by far been the hardest day with you yet.

I’m sitting here with you in your sleepy wrap against my body while I cry my eyes out writing this post.

I was not prepared.  I had no idea.  No one warned me.  Who’s job is that?  They are fired.

I thought I was so tough because I didn’t cry when you got your shots.  You seemed okay.  You screamed a little but once I picked you up you were okay.

It wasn’t until we were on the way home that Betsy, who interestingly enough was driving to get Mirth her 6 month old shots, said that she gives her baby aspirin in the office before the shots so they already have a little buffer.

Uh oh.

I gave you the baby aspirin as soon as we got home.  You spit it out.  I tried again, you spit most of that one out.  I gave up because I didn’t want to overdose you and you seemed fine.  We played games and chatted for almost an hour.  You took a nap and then I laid you down in the jungle so you could hunt monkeys.  You were cooing and gurgling while I joked with your Dad and Sarah about how nothing seemed to phase you when suddenly, the shit hit the fan.

You let out a high pitched wail the likes of which I’ve never heard before.  It was the kind of scream that made my heart hurt and my guts ache.  And you kept screaming.  You were in so much pain and I didn’t know what to do to help you so I just held you and called the doctor.  They said to try the aspirin again.  That you had probably finally reached your threshold and that was why you were screaming, but that the aspirin should work in 20-30 minutes. So I did.  You threw it up along with all your lunch milk all over me in the kitchen. I tried again, desperate to give you some relief.  You threw that up all over me in your bedroom.  Then I called again.  “Stop giving aspirin” she said ” it obviously doesn’t agree with her.  Just soothe her as best you can.  She’s probably over tired now anyway.  Put cold compresses on her legs where the shots were or put her in a tepid bath, which she’ll probably hate.  Call if it gets any worse and bring her in.”

That’s it?  I thought.

You and I were down to pants and a diaper only by this point which I think was actually better because we were skin to skin and that seemed to calm you down a little bit.  We smelled like puke though.  So even though your eyes were closed I had to put you down to wash us both off a bit.  Then you screamed again. So I grabbed the sleepy wrap and put it on as fast as I could.  Then I put you in it.  And that is where you have been ever since.

Now I can’t stop crying.  Not so tough anymore, am I?

I would give anything to trade places with you and feel the pain for you.

That is probably why I should go to Alanon.  Pretty co-dependent of me, isn’t it?  But I think you know what I mean.  To see you in so much pain and to feel so helpless is one of the hardest things I have ever gone through in my life so far.

I don’t know if I can do this.  I’m not strong enough.  I can’t stop crying right now.  What a wuss I am!

I’ve just never felt so vulnerable, and little, and afraid.  I want to soothe you and be strong for you.  It took everything I had to be calm for you.  I guess the dam broke now that you are asleep and I can be weak.

This too shall pass.

It always does.

I’m going to play classical music on the stereo and read a spiritual book to pass the time right now, hopefully that will soothe me.

I’ll keep you posted.  See what the rest of the day has in store of for us.

At 5pm you woke up.  I gave you tylenol in tiny doses making sure you swallowed it.  Then I gave you a tepid bath which you hated.  Finally I breastfed you and you smiled.  All suggestions were via Betsy, the real baby whisperer.

You played with your Papa and I until 7pm when you crashed, hard.

Now it’s 10pm and you are still out.  But you are crunched up against your bassinet and your head is turned the wrong way and I really want to pull you down and turn your head so it’s not on the flat spot but I also feel like I should leave you alone.

Or should I wake you up and feed you and give you tylenol before I go to bed so you don’t wake up starving and hurting later?  That’s assuming you would.  Or is it more humane to let you sleep?

This is my dilemma these days.

To wake a sleeping baby or not to wake?

That is the question.

for the record- Papa wants me to wake you.

I love you.

Mom