Kids get colds. They’ll recover and build up their immune system in the process. That’s the wisdom that flew my way from numerous sources last week after Sophia started sneezing and had a stuffy nose and mild temperature.
I know it’s true, that kids get sick, but I didn’t expect a cold so soon. Sophia was only 5 weeks old and 8 pounds, 14 ounces, so I didn’t handle this test of motherhood very well.
I should have seen it coming because my husband has not felt well for a couple of weeks. We chalked his symptoms up to seasonal allergy and sinus problems but it appears that he was battling something else as well.
We noticed that Sophie felt warm to the touch and took her temperature. It was less than 90 99 degrees but I scheduled an appointment with the pediatrician just to be on the safe side.
Besides, I tried using the suction bulb that came with my children’s first aid kit to clear her nose and only succeeded in annoying her further. I needed a lesson in booger suctioning and figured that’s what health insurance is for anyway.
The doctor confirmed that yes, Sophia had a standard cold. Something was going around. And although she still had a low temperature, I was told to monitor her temperature closely. Because of her small size, the doctor warned me that if her temperature went up we were heading to the hospital.
Once home from the pediatrician’s office I took Sophia in my bedroom, shut the door, held her in my arms and cried. I knew things could be much worse but I was overcome with fear. I was afraid that her temperature would rise, that we would go to the hospital and that this would turn out to be more than just a cold.
Babies do not come with a list of illnesses and diseases that they will develop as they grow and I was afraid that my healthy child was more than a little ill.
Sophie’s temperature continued to rise reaching 99.5 degrees later in the night. At that point I called the doctor just to be sure we were doing the right thing. We were told to keep her full of fluids, continue to use the suction bulb in her nose and check her temperature periodically.
It was a long night as we took turns feeding, suctioning and watching her sleep in her bouncy chair. Sophia’s head was so congested that she had a hard time breathing while laying on her back in her cradle so we kept her upright in the chair. (What did parents do before the invention of the bouncy chair?)
Sophia slept a lot for the next two days just waking up to eat and get a fresh diaper. Her temperature went up and down, but never went over 99.5.
We locked ourselves in the house as best we could in order to prevent further germs from creeping in and sickening our new, little, delicate baby. Her little body was able to battle off the cold, but she is still dealing with the sniffles.
My husband is also feeling better. It seems that our self-enforced quarantine and acute attention to hand washing and sleeping was good for him as well.
Of course, I was the last family member to catch the bug and am still sniffling and sneezing. Breast feeding prevents me from taking cold medicine, so I am relying on juice and vitamins to boost my immune system and help purge the cold. I figure that if my tiny child can fight off her first cold with just a good meal and a good night’s sleep, my overgrown body should be able to do the same.
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It turns out that I am a novice when it comes to nursery rhymes. I’m not all that knowledgeable of fairy tales either. It wasn’t until I found myself rocking my new baby and attempting to sing and tell her stories that I realized I lack this essential parenting skill.
The ability to sing the correct lyrics to “Pat a Cake” is not a resume-building skill in most professions. In fact, humming such songs in your cubicle is usually frowned upon in the workplace.
And as for fairy tales, I’ve spent my adult life shunning the idea that all women are princesses in disguise just waiting for a handsome prince to make life worth living, so I didn’t brush up on my knowledge of far-away lands prior to bringing home my baby girl.
I assumed that I possessed this knowledge - that the tunes and stories of my childhood were laying dormant in my brain just waiting to be called out of the bullpen.
I was wrong and have resorted to going with what I know.
To my surprise, the story of a boy called upon save the galaxy from the dark Lord Vader just rolls off the tongue. And somewhere along the way I picked up most of the lyrics to “Me and Bobby McGee.” The story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears has also become an afternoon staple, although my husband tells me that the bears do not eat Goldilocks at the end (but that just doesn’t make sense).
But I do want to broaden my repertoire and encourage imagination, so I have started reading fairy tales to Sophia while she is sitting in her bouncy chair or propped up in her Boppy pillow. She still has a hard time focusing on pictures in books, but I think she enjoys my voice and our time together. Of course, she falls asleep soon after the stories begin.
And as for singing, I looked up nursery rhymes online and am working to integrate them into Sophie’s feeding times. I think she is getting tired of my bad Janis Joplin impression and could use a few fun songs that she can eventually sing on her own.
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I expected my daughter’s weight to be an issue – a lifelong conversation and struggle. I was preparing to battle childhood obesity and obsess over teaching good nutrition. To my surprise, Sophia is underweight and we’re feeding her like she’s on a permanent eating binge.
At her two-week checkup Sophie had gained only one ounce since leaving the hospital. I was breast feeding her almost exclusively and she was quite sleepy. The result was that when she was awake, she nibbled on the breast because her stomach was small and my breast milk was still not plentiful. And after nibbling for a while she would just fall asleep.
Her pediatrician put us on a rigorous eating schedule in order to beef up the baby. We were instructed to wake her up and make her eat every 2 -3 hours. This was a challenge at first because Sophia was just not interested in waking and eating. But after a few days her stomach started to expand and she woke up on her own when she was hungry.
The other issue was my lack of breast milk I was producing enough milk for only a few of Sophie’s stepped-up feedings and I had to add a lot of formula to her diet. I beat myself up for days as we continued to use an increased amount of formula.
I visited a lactation consultant who, to my surprise, advised that I pump more regularly and worry less about feeding Sophia on the breast and instead focus on keeping breast milk in her diet. We’re still breast feeding and bonding when we can, but I am pumping more and she is eating most meals from the bottle.
At her follow-up visit with the pediatrician Sophia had gained and additional eight ounces and she continues to expand up and out. We have another appointment this afternoon and I have my fingers crossed that she is closer to her correct weight.
This whole experience has been stressful for us as new parents. The initial concern over Sophia’s weight led us to question everything that we are doing. Up to that point we thought we were doing on O.K. job. Everyone told us that babies sleep all of the time and that we should be thankful she wasn’t fussy. It turns out we were all wrong.
But the experience of rigorously watching Sophie’s weight has been eye-opening as well. Friends and family members (and a few random folks) shared similar stories with us about their challenges with breast feeding and maintaining their child’s weight. It turns out that while breast feeding is best, a lot of mothers have a hard time.
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