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.