Oh, wire baskets. Even when I have no need for them I always look, pick up, lovingly inspect, and usually buy them. They call to me like those weird little creatures on the Pier 1 commercials.
I promise to have pics of the nursery up soon, but I still have some projects to do before I’m ready to show you guys. Like perhaps a mobile that doesn’t look like a 4 year old made it in Sunday School. (See epic my failures HERE.) Still have a DIY art project that requires a working color printer, which we don’t have at the moment.
Also, our lives with a 12 day old are feed, feed, feed, maybe sleep some, wake up, feed, feed, feed. I have been scheduling showers for myself -and no, it’s not even everyday. Stu has been just incredible. Watching him change her diapers (which he does far better than me) or carefully pull her arms through a onesie or wipe the tiniest bit of milk from her chin during a feeding just melts me.
While having her home has been wonderful, we had quite the scare this weekend…Gemma caught Stu’s cold. I tell you there is NOTHING worse than the sound of a newborn baby coughing up crud and gasping for breath. We saw the doctor on Saturday with instructions to get a humidifier and saline and told she’s too young for meds. Things got much worse, and we were told by the nurse on call to go to ER at 2:00am on Sunday. Her chest X ray was fine, and they don’t believe it’s RSV. But we still have to watch her carefully.
Around the hours of 11:00pm to 3:00am she cries inconsolably and coughs these huge nasty coughs that seem too big for her tiny body to handle. They scare her and she chokes, sometime throwing up the little milk she managed to get down at the last feed. We rock her and shhh her. We wrap her in blankets and crank the heat up to 76. We kiss her little head. And I cry. I feel so helpless and scared in those moments. We can see confusion on her little face and can’t do anything to help her. This is far worse than the 12 hours of labor with two failed epidurals, back labor, 2 hours of pushing, and eventual c section. Nothing can compare to the kind of pain when your kid is hurting and you simply can’t make it better. I didn’t think I’d learn this kind of parenting lesson only 12 day in.
She will get better. I know this in my head. I tell myself this repeatedly and pray for it to happen sooner rather than later. We will get sleep, eventually. We’ll move on and look back on these weeks and probably forget how hard it felt in the moment. The pictures will show us smiling and baby girl sleeping peacefully. That’s what we’ll choose to remember, and that’s probably what will convince us to do it all over again an a few years.