Not Down with the Sickness

Well, we made it six months before really getting sick...guess I should be thankful for that. It was bound to happen with as many kids as Jameson is around and as many places as we go. He started to get sneezy and coughy (yes, I made up that word) on Sunday and it just got worse as the evening progressed. His coughs started to sound more painful and it about broke my heart every single time, especially when he would follow it up with the most pitiful little groan and/or a cry of pain. He slept surprisingly well Sunday night, but when we woke up at 6:00AM to eat, we knew we were taking him to the doctor as soon as they opened. He was wheezing and just sounded so awful; yet, he was still his happy little self! Darin and I were standing outside the pediatrician's office at 8:00 AM sharp and luckily were the first ones to be seen. The doctor didn't even really need to look at Jameson before he knew what was wrong. Croup. Ugh - that is one word I hoped to never hear in the same sentence as Jameson. I guess there is quite a bit of that going around town and of course my little monkey managed to get it.

The doc prescribed some prednisone to help with the swelling and redness in his throat and suggested ibuprofen. It was funny because he warned us that sometimes babies get "mean" while taking prednisone. For those of you who know Jameson, you probably find that as comical as I did - I actually even laughed out loud. Jameson, a mean baby? Psh, no way. Well...after last night, I take back my laugh. I would not necessarily say he was mean, but he definitely was not the sweet baby we all know. He would thrash around when we held him, pull at our faces, grab our noses as if he was trying to pull them off, and the best - pull at our eyes. But, then two seconds later he would hug and snuggle us so tightly and let out these sad little groans that just made me want to breathe in every germ for myself and save him from the misery. It was definitely a rough night sleeping-wise...the worst since he was born. But, the fact that it took 6+ months to have a really bad night with an infant makes me feel pretty darn blessed.

It is like I said in my "Before You..." post. Me being sick is nothing in comparison to seeing my child in agony, knowing that he is too young to understand that he will eventually feel better. There is not much worse than feeling so helpless when your child looks up at you with his glazed over, puffy red eyes and lets out a sad little cough followed by a cry. But, I am going to do the only thing I can...smother that child with all the TLC he can handle! And, I will continue to let him thrash about, poke at my eyeballs, and pull out my hair until he feels better...because that is what moms do!


Still so happy even when sick.

 Oh, and of course he was all smiles and full of cute little babbles on the way over to my parents this morning, as well as when I went to visit at lunch - stinker :).