A letter to Imri

My sweet boy,

You are now nearly 8 and a half months old and I can't believe the constant transformations I see in you.

You are sweet - yes, all mommies believe their babies are sweet but you truly are a sweet-tempered and happy/sunshiny boy. You love to laugh, you smile so much. People who see you in a store can't help but smile at your beaming face and reach out to you.
Nothing delights you more than mommy holding you as you jump and jump on the couch. I see shades of the boy you are becoming ... a beautiful boy I see jumping on beds and moonbounces and everything else he can find.

Imri, you are the most alert baby I've ever known. You look at everything, stare at everything. I wonder what it is you see, how your mind processes each and every new thing that comes your way. You are entranced by cars and their movement - also by our cats and their movement. Some of your biggest smiles happen when Simcha comes into the room.

You love books. I mean ... you adore them. Chewing them, flipping their pages, staring at the pictures intently. You look up at me as I read to you and laugh and try to touch my lips.

Words are coming to you now. I swear I heard you said "cat" the other day when Simcha came meandering by. Your favourite word is "da DA da" said in that beautiful small voice. You beam at me when you say a "word" and I repeat it back to you. Such happiness - you are a happy child, beloved boy.

You show strong preferences when it comes to foods and aren't afraid to tell me so loudly - we've started yoghurt and you love it. You love gnawing on fresh peaches and other fruit but get frightened and "choke" on their texture. You were less enthused of the broccoli/chicken jarred food but seem to love the apple/chicken thingie. Yes, I'm feeding you jarred baby food which makes me squirm, but before long you'll be eating table foods too ... if only a tooth or two would make an appearance. Lots of drool, no teeth. I know they're coming. But this works well with the breastfeeding thang - which I'm still doing, albeit less of now.

Beloved boy, you're still not sleeping well at night - I know you want to cuddle and nurse with mommy all night, but it's not working for mommy, my love. Not for a lack of desire - but because we live in a country that doesn't support mommies staying at home with their babies. I have to work - and need to sleep.
If we lived in Canada, I'd still be home with you - and I'd have another 4 months to go. It still breaks my heart a little each time I drop you off at the daycare.

You haven't figured out the knack of crawling yet - you rock back and forth and end up moving backwards. You love standing and "walking" when mommy holds your hands. You get SO excited when you walk, it's incredible to see - as if you can sense that you are on the verge of freedom. You try to stand when you can but you haven't quite gotten the concept of pulling yourself up yet.

The jumperoo is still one of your favourite toys and I will mourn when you are too big for it - and the day is getting close now. 22 lbs at your last doctor's visit! You are such a big boy - and you are starting to look more little-boy-like now, and less babyish, which brightens my day and hurts my heart a little, all at the same time.

You have so many toys and books! Mommy can't help herself, especially at yard sales. She got you a toy bus, truck and train yesterday (all for 2 dollars! Your mommy loves yard-saling) because of your seeming fascination with all things that move - and sure enough, you love that bus. The truck and train will wait till you're a little older, I think.

You get such a big smile when mommy starts to sing the "bushel and a peck" song - it seems to be your favourite out of all the songs I sing. Such a big smile and you even give kisses, sometimes. They are the sweetest kisses I've ever known.

The bath seems to be a source of fascination - you've really taken to it and love the different toys that show up in your tub. Banging toys together is a favoured pastime now as is splashing in the water. For a boy who didn't always like water, you sure do love that duck tub now!

I love nursing you to sleep, Imri sweet. Be it breast or bottle, I love watching your face become tranquil with food and comfort, the way you snuggle down into the crook of my arms, the way your breathing changes and slows, the little sounds of contentment you make as you drift off. I stand at the side of your crib and watch you breathe, trying to mark the moment, the beauty of your face in my mind forever.

Even on the most difficult and exhausting days, I love being with you, Imri. You make it all worthwhile. I never knew I could love like this ... I never knew you would be so incredibly and utterly wonderful. You are more than I ever dared ... no, more than I ever knew existed - to hope for. I get afraid sometimes, sweet boy - afraid that this near-perfection can't last - but then I look at your sweet face and am reassured.

Because even now at this young age, you amaze me. And I know deep in my heart that is never going to change. You are very very deeply loved, my Imri sweet.

Sleep - the ongoing saga

Is it only me that fails the word verification thingies that blogger (and other sites) use to prevent spambots? I'll get something like mqwkvgewyfs. I type it in carefully, hit the "submit" button and ... I get another jumble of letters with "please try again" or some such. Some days I feel like such a loser.

Anyway, the sleep thing continues to defy us. At most, Imri will sleep between 1.5-3 hours at a stretch. When he does sleep a whole three hours, the skies open and angels weep for joy. Of course, that could also just be my brain, delighting in REM sleep once again. Wow. Three whole hours is such a source of joy - it's kind of like the rejoicing that commences when I see that the gas station nearby is selling gasoline for only $2.85 a gallon. Who woulda thunk that I'd ever get excited over either of those things?

I did read some Weissbluth, a recommendation of some wise ladies and ... we just can't do it. CIO, or crying it out, just won't work for our family. At least not right now. I did take away some useful pointers like "bedtime doesn't have to be exactly at the same time every night" and so on which helps, as I don't like being rigid ... but we shall see. Imri did sleep for a decent chunk of time (about two hours, so no angels singing) last night but that could also be because he hadn't really slept since close to his noon nap at daycare. Most of the remainder of the night, he spent in bed with me. And I actually did sleep for a large (all things are relative, boys and girls) part of the night, until I was awoken by a fairly fierce thunder storm at 4am. Ah well.

Father's Day was a wonderful success. John loved the pictures of Imri that I had framed for him - it was the same pic, only I had them enlarged professionally and one copy was black and white - he absolutely loved them. Imri got him a Nike golf shirt of some special "moisture wicking" material and that was a big hit too.





We ended up going to Ruby Tuesd@ys for dinner that evening, as I had received a gift card which was begging to be used. We were a tad nervous about taking Imri out to a restaurant, but it was a wonderful experience. I brought baby food, rattles and various other paraphernalia - Imri was delighted to be sitting up with the big folks and eating, able to survey all around him (and be adored by same). He decided to partake of our conversation and offered such insights as "da da da DA! DA!! ba ba BA!!". We were impressed but decided to have dessert at home. He was so good as to make it a fun evening for us - it made us realize that we should do it more often.

On to more good news; Imri saw Dr Wonderful this morning and his hemoglobin, hematocrit and ferritin levels are all within normal range. He will remain on iron drops for 2 more months and ... his spleen is back to normal size. His ears are clear despite the cold that has beleaguered him recently and he is just so absolutely delicious that all the nurses flock to him whenever I bring him in. It's very sweet - Imri takes it in stride as his due, of course. My center-of-attention son ... very cute.

I've been keeping to myself of late - sleep deprivation and some home-front trouble, not to mention a fairly heavy period (I'm guessing due to less pumping/breastfeeding)have led to a bit of sadness and lack of coping. I hesitate to term it depression because I am feeling better and my tsoures are small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. It did feel pretty awful when I was deep in the throes, but I've gotten over myself. Oh and my mother finally did call. Not necessary but nice.

So there you have it. A blogger keeping to herself sort of defeats the purpose of blogging but some days I don't have the energy. If I did, I'd probably already be down the thirtytwenty pounds I need to lose very desperately. I'll try and stay in touch.

On a schedule - for what it's worth

Life continues merrily on its path. Jr graduated from high school to our joy and relief. He then proceeded while at work, to sell cigarettes to an underage kid who also happened to be an undercover cop. We await his punishment - he is suspended from work until they say otherwise. Yeah. Well, at least he graduated. Nuff said.

Imri is flourishing and growing bigger before my eyes. To the extent that we find ourselves driving to the nearest baby store today, to purchase a convertible car seat as his infant seat no longer fits him ... *sob*!
He is babbling away and his word recognition is growing in leaps and bounds. He gets very excited at the word "book". Imri is exploring the world around him and trying mightily to crawl. He has the up on all fours down pat, it's the forward motion that eludes him. He rocks and rocks and ends up moving backwards - which is still movement, you know.

He delights in standing up - assisted, of course - he is very sturdy on his feet and will take steps as well. He gets very excited by this. His latest thing is not the beloved jumperoo, but a basket filled with small toys which he delights in emptying over and over again - with much gnawing and chewing involved. He does, however, absolutely love jumping on beds, couches or anything bouncy upon which his doting mother will help him bounce. I'd do anything to hear that amazing laugh. Absolutely anything.






He is pouring drool these days but still no tooth to be seen. His behaviour is definitely teething behaviour though - he is chewing on everything and anything.

To top it all off, it's as if a lightbulb went off and he has gone nuts over solids! Hurray! From the boy that would spit everything out and cry when you fed him, he has turned into an eating machine; three solids meals a day, including meats, veggies, fruit and oatmeal. Pretty much anything and everything we put in his mouth, much to our joy.

To our chagrin however, was the discovery that a full belly doesn't necessarily mean better sleep. We were hopeful, I tell you. He even slept a full three hours a couple of nights. Last night disabused us of the notion that things were improving, unfortunately. Imri woke after 30 minutes, then after 15 minutes, then 15 minutes, then 45 minutes. We got up to an hour interval when I pulled him into our bed. Enough. I need SOME sleep.

I'm hoping this is a mere bump on the sleep highway. We have instituted a schedule for my beloved boy, despite my declaration to John some months ago "our boy does fine without a schedule!" -which was true at the time but seems to be that way no longer. John had difficulty accepting the whole concept of change but he is getting over it. Slowly.

Anyway, this is our schedule right now, with some minor alteration on the weekends when Imri seems to know he can sleep in. That's my boy ...

Wake: Usually around 5-6 am, depending on whether he has daycare or not.
Leave for work/daycare around 6:15. Sometimes he nurses, sometimes not. Usually he has been sucking on boob part of the night so he's not terribly hungry.
Arrive at daycare around 6:45 - nurse.
Or if home, nurse around 7:30 ish.
First nap around 8 - 8:30. The last couple of weekend days he has woken closer to 7 am so the early nap has gone down the toilet. I am not sure that will be the case on early morning days.
Breakfast when he awakes, 9ish. 4 Tbl oatmeal and fruit and veg.
Playtime.
He usually nurses or gets a bottle some time between 10 and 12.
Nap - now this seems to vary. Sometimes he naps early (usually for me) and sometimes he naps later (usually for daycare). So it remains fluid. So it could be at 11 (yes!)and it could be at 1.(boo)
12-1 Lunch - 4tbl oatmeal, fruit and veg.
Playtime.
Nap - usually around 3-4. Sometimes later, such as when John picks him up from daycare and he falls asleep in the car. Usually around a 30 minute nap.
Bottle or nurse
Playtime.
6ish - dinner. Meat and veg. No fruit or juice or anything sugary. We try and stay low-key from here on in, including low key playtime.
7ish bathtime. We do it every night now.
7:30 we read books
7:45 bottle/nurse
8-8:15 bedtime. (Some on my bulletin board say 8 is too late for bed but I don't often get home from work until 6:30, so it has to fit into our home life and that seems to work well.)

Then wake wake wake wake and want to nurse nurse nurse nurse. *sigh*. He does fall asleep with relative ease to music - both his lullaby mobile and his Aquarium one get called into service at different times. Last night as I was about to pull my hair out, I decided to use the aquarium ... halleluyah. He finally slept for about 1-2 hours. Imri usually ends up in our bed around 3-4 am out of my desperation for some form of sleep. Where he nurses a lot but not as much as he used to. (I wonder if that has anything to do with his ear surgery - I also wonder if that is the reason he wants to eat too - or if that was just plain ol' perseverance.)

We did try a teeny-weeny-mini-attempt at CIO last night at one point, to see if he would lull himself back to sleep, but he just kept escalating and escalating, to the point that when we did go in, it took a lot longer to bring him down than if we had gone in earlier. And perhaps that is what caused the many reawakenings of that night. Who knows? Not I.
Anyway, it's a big Nope. Not doing it. I don't care how many people email me or comment and say "hey, cio is the only thing that worked, it was awful but it worked ..." "awful" is a word I don't want to associate with my son. Not now, not ever. If it is that miserable an experience, it's not the right way to go for us. Both John and I feel strongly about this. And both of us (more me, of course) aren't getting much sleep.

At least we agree on that. Pretty much all other bets seem to be off.

Comments? Ideas? Suggestions(that don't involve CIO)?

My husband also seems to want to do something called "sex". I vaguely remember this - it felt good, if I remember correctly. However, right now when given the choice between sleep and this "sex" thing ... I pick sleep. Call me silly. And call him frustrated. Oy.






PS - my mother still hasn't called.

Chapter 2 (or is it 3?) in "I think I was raised by wolves"

My parents are older - I've mentioned this before - and rather set in their ways but aside from that, my mother tends to take every situation and ratchet it up several notches. I'm not sure if this is a cry for attention or whether she's just never learned to cope appropriately but her attitude tends to rain down on the rest of us, including my father.

I've tried very hard to call them frequently as we live so far away and I want them to share in their grandson's life as much as possible, but you have to wade through a lot of my mother's bullshit and it's getting old and tired. There is always something that has ruined something else for my mother. My mother could find flaws in perfection, trust me.

They do have my sympathies as they had a difficult week. Their fridge compressor died and they had to go 5 days without a fridge which is hard, especially in your 70s - but I called to say hi yesterday and you would have thought I had asked my mother to drop everything and walk on over the 700 miles or so to visit us ...

You see, she's completely stressed out. Why? Because my brother and his wife are expecting in July (nothing new) and sister B is going in for surgery around the same time(we also knew this)and how mom just can't care for her kids because she's exhausted (ok, just tell her, you're always exhausted) and sister A is not well (also nothing new) and the fridge and yadayadayadayadayadayada and how her hand hurts (!!!!)because she was on the phone for an hour (!!!!)with sister A and how she's just going to have to call me back tomorrow.

Which wouldn't be a big deal if she hadn't said exactly the same thing last week and I never heard from her. Or how she seems to call very rarely now anyway.

Add to this that my parents have told me that they are coming here at some point during the summer (either before or after a visit to Quebec for whale-watching) and I'd like to get an approximation so perhaps I can rent a cottage at the beach or plan something nice to do for them and us - and while their ETA is dependent on whether or not my brother and his wife have a boy (for a bris or baby naming) it would still be nice to get approximates, but I obviously made the mistake of asking more than once over a two week period.
You would think I had asked for the moon. I mean - I'm trying to do something nice. Anyway, whatever. Besides, John and I do have some plans (not many) this summer and we will not cancel them at the last minute because my parents suddenly decide that "this is the weekend we're coming ..."

So I'm listening to my mother and making the appropriate commiseration sounds and I asked her if she got the last batch of Imri pics in her email, hoping this might improve her mood. She got all upset and it became a huge production, how she hasn't had time, the fridge was so stressful, everything is so stressful, she didn't really look at the pictures and how she just can't cope ... (did I mention that the fridge is fixed now?) and how badly my father took the poor customer service of the fridge repair people ....and she abruptly says something like "I just can't handle all this and I will call you tomorrow" and I got short with her and said "fine" and hung up. I mean, I was just calling so she could hear how her grandson is talking, really but she never even asked how he was.

It's my guess she could tell I was upset and she had my dad call back only I didn't answer when I saw their number light up the caller ID and my dad (who has to deal with all her moods, poor man) left a message about how I shouldn't worry about when they're coming they will let us know - so now it sounds as if that's why I called -which isn't why ...ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! It looks like they tried to call again in the afternoon when we were out, but no message was left so maybe she clued in.

I am just getting so tired of mom and her issues crap. Why can't she just take a chill pill and relax and try and enjoy her grandson (and everything else in life), rather than working everything into a state of panic?? Why does everything have to be a major meltdown?

I was so hurt yesterday I actually cried when I got off the phone. I should be used to my parent's rejection by now. I guess it just never occurred to me that it would be directed at my son, directly or indirectly. I'm just not going to let him ever be affected by that crap.

Moving on towards summer

Yes, I've been negligent and haven't written here in a while. I'm a bad blogger. Does this mean I get a spanking?? Oops. Wait. Sorry. Wrong blog.

Anyway, life has continued on its frantic and slightly harried pace - the fantastic CAT scan results were followed by a visit to the ENT (ear, nose and throat doctor)the very next day. You see, Imri has just had too many ear infections; he has basically had non-stop ear infections since he turned 3-4 months old, accompanied with a dizzying array of ever-increasing in strength antibiotics. More importantly, we had seen a decrease in his babbling and his hearing seemed to be affected. So, I went to the DC Urban Moms archives (I post on that wonderful list) and found some name recommendations, called one and booked an appointment, a week or so before the whole CAT scan mess started.

Dr ENT is an older man who is also hard of hearing and has been since childhood - while he doesn't specialize in children, he does an inordinate amount of children's care and even has an absolutely gorgeous fish tank in his office, telling the tale of how the nurse at hisENT's office would let him feed the fish there, if he would be good and let the doctor examine him. I thought it was sweet ... and he has a dedicated area for children which some children's doctors don't have. All in all, it was win-win. He was quite old school in some ways, even courtly as he listened to the ongoing tale of Imri's ear infections. He examined Imri and pronounced quickly that he had a lot of fluid and needed tubes, explaining a few other small things. He said "asap" when he heard of the decrease in Imri's articulation.

So, the following Friday found us at the Children's Hospital satellite office in R0ckville at 07:00. Because Imri was the youngest patient of the day, he got to go first - and everyone involved in his care was excellent. The anaesthesiologist was a lovely warm man, who let me come into the OR and hold my son as he drifted off to sleep. No IVs, just a mask - none of the stress and anguish of a nasogastric tube or any discomfort to my sweet boy, other than the indignity of having a small mask on his face.

Not 15 minutes later, Dr ENT came out and told us that Imri was fine and that he had a great deal of thick fluid behind the ear, causing him basically to walk around with that "being in an airplane" sensation, as described by the good doctor. He invited us to go back to the PACU (post anaesthesia care unit) where a very nice nurse was caring for my sleeping boy. She was excellent - really the kind of nurse you hope would be caring for small children; thorough, sweet and painstaking in going over the post-care instructions with dazed parents. Yeah, I'm an RN but not when it comes to my boy. Besides, I don't tell people usually - John told her. Oy. Nurse Nice genuinely seemed to like children - it's nice to see. The nurse who cared for him while he had his CAT scan seemed to be filling in time.

An hour later we were on our way home with a sleepy boy. He had woken up crying, mostly from hunger as he hadn't eaten since 3:30 in the morning and my nurse-all-night boy wasn't happy at having the boob taken away. And yes, he's back in our bed. He starts in his but moves to ours ... we just can't seem to let him cry it out - he starts to hyperventilate and choke - so he snuggles with me and my sore nips.
But I digress. After waking, he went immediately to nurse and was easily consoled. Not long after, he was jumping in my lap and wanting to play ...

He gets eardrops twice a day and antibiotic for a while longer and we have to put earplugs in his ears for any exposure to water - his first permitted post-surgery bath is scheduled for tonight and I know that the ear plugs are going to be a huge hit ... uh-huh.

But the best part of this is that my son has started to talk. Almost immediately, that afternoon we heard his voice start to babble - and he hasn't stopped. Babbling, shrieking, yelling ... and listening to everything we say. If for no other reason, just hearing his voice again makes it all worthwhile.

So now we're just hoping that's the worst of his medical woes for many years to come. Sure, he needs repeat bloodwork in a month but during his H&P for the surgery, the young pedi (not one of the usual ones) couldn't feel his spleen. That has made a lot of people very happy, including Dr Wonderful who stopped by to tell us that bit of good news.





















So, it's been a good long weekend. We didn't get to half the stuff we wanted to get done around the house but it's clean and our flowers are planted and mulched. Imri has a wading pool - unused as of yet, and a swing, which he adores. He is so close to crawling - can hike himself up on all fours and rocks - and ends up moving backwards but hey, to each their own. He is drooling and chewing his fingers and everything else - we are waiting for teeth to show up some day soon.





















Jr went on his senior prom which was nice despite the enormous fubar-edness of his lack of preparation for same event and my having to put up with the presence of the biothing in my home. But all overshadowed by the sweet tones of my boy saying "bababababababababa" and "dadadadadadada" and responding appropriately to things like "are you hungry?" and "where's the cat?"

But no "mama". Yet.

A girl can always hope ...

It's good news!!!!!!!

Dr Wonderful called me at work ... there is NO tumour, mass or anything else abnormal in Imri's belly or chest - yes, his spleen is enlarged but it looked fine and yes, he is anemic - we are going to continue Iron therapy for a month, then recheck and depending on results, we may go to a pediatric hematologist - but that's a big if!!!!

I broke down and sobbed in relief at work today ... my boy is FINE!! He is healthy and wonderful and just FINE!! Damn, here come the tears again .... I rushed home and scooped him up and covered his little face with kisses. Yesterday was all sorts of hell for my sweet boy but today - it's like the sun won't stop shining. Yeah, it sounds trite and banal and I don't care - it's how I feel. I literally felt 20 lbs lighter after the call from Dr Wonderful (who, btw, called 10 minutes after getting into the office and getting the results, that wonderful woman).

Thank you, every one of you SO much for all your support through a very trying and difficult time - we really appreciate the comments and emails of support. Your words, wisdom and outright caring about a small boy whom you've never met made a very difficult time much more bearable.

Fighting the fear

I don't remember exactly when, but at some point in my life I learned the difference between living in joy and living in fear. It started a serious epiphany of understanding my own motivations and what drives me to this day. It's my belief that a lot of it is hard-wired into us - it is who we are and although there are some aspects of nurture, community, and socialization intertwined, it's hard to escape our genetics.

For the most part, I do believe that most people live in fear; fear of what we have, fear of what we don't have, fear of others, fear of the unknown, fear of what we haven't done yet, fear of not measuring up. For example, the last presidential election preyed on those fears, those small gremlins that live inside us and only come out to whisper quiet nasties in our minds and hearts. Easy pickings, really. Coach everything in terms of a bogeyman and people tend to grasp to the easiest and nearest solution. But I digress into politics when really, I don't mean to do so today (sorry, Jen).

Those who live in joy seem to be few and far between. Those few folks who actually revel in life and all its offerings, who go unabashed into strange places, who don't worry about what others might think of them, who are unafraid to be different or to take a new path.

I don't necessarily believe that one is exclusively one without any of the other. An offering of my own fears would stop most of you from reading this blog any further. Suffice it to say that despite my pessimistic and cynical leanings, I've always been able to find joy in small things - the beauty of a flower, the "remembrance" of a long-forgotten fragrance - although larger fears have often guided my direction and I say that with a measure of sadness. Even self-awareness doesn't always prevent one from doing the wrong thing. Needless to say, I am intimately acquainted with Fear, that bastard.

But fear like this new fear ... I've never experienced anything like it. It's sheer helplessness, aided and abetted by those small gremlins who delight in whispering horrors in my ears. It's a type fear that compels a certain masochism that forces me to go0gle "splenomegaly and anemia, infant". Maybe it's a way of attempting to assert some form of control over this fear - I don't know. I just know that I keep holding my sweet son and repeating to myself "there is nothing wrong with this wonderful healthy boy".




And while fear is gripping me to a large extent, I am trying very hard to believe in this new mantra. If I repeat it enough, perhaps it will remain truth.




Happy Mother's Day to all of us; women pre, post and intra.

Update ...

We saw Dr Wonderful, the sweet non-interventionist doc whom I love.

She thinks we should go ahead with the test.

They are looking for a mass. She didn't say the chances of a mass were very small, either.

I am trying to hold it together till John comes home but it's not working and I am a wreck.

My sweet boy. Please - not to him. Do anything to me, but not to my sweet Imri, please.

Am I a nurse or a mother?

So we took Imri in on Thursday for another check-up because of his ears and enlarged spleen.

Dr MOF took a look and his ears were still infected after a week on Omnicef. So, she decided to give him shots of antibiotics instead - my poor little man. At least the nurses there are excellent. He has a series of three shots (two at a time for a total of six) and today is the last day. It's just miserable - painful - they put Lidocaine, a numbing agent into the injection because of it - and there's no guarantee that this will work. I'm at my wits end and so glad I made an appt with the ENT for Thursday. We'll see what he says. I mean, if so many antibiotics haven't worked - maybe it's viral?? I'm very concerned about Imri's speech development - while he'll only be 7 months old on Mother's Day, it's my opinion that I've seen less consonant and vowel sounds from him of late and that worries me. Did I mention that he said "mama" last week?? *beaming mother*

As for the spleen - well, it's still enlarged. And Dr MOF decided she wanted to ultrasound him. Then she changed her mind and decided she wanted to CT him so they booked us for Tuesday at Children's Hospital in DC. We need to be there by 10 am, which means leaving our house by 8 - traffic is brutal around that time of day. I called there to find out the drill after finding out Imri will have to go without anything to eat for SIX (!!!) hours because they'll have to sedate him.

And, because he needs to get both oral and IV contrast, if he won't drink the oral contrast, they need to put in a nasogastric tube (down his nose and into his stomach)and also start an IV. Knowing my boy, he won't drink the contrast. Please. He barely takes juice on a good day.

Top that off with sedation (and without an anaesthesiologist, it's RN-done conscious sedation)for a procedure that may be unnecessary and I'm left with a real dilemma - do I agree to the procedure on the off chance that they MAY find something wrong ... or do I hold off from something that seems terribly invasive to me?

He is on iron drops and supposedly the anemia is fairly mild - so why not wait the six weeks to see if his anemia vanishes? Anemia is not uncommon in breastfed babies.

I do get a chance to talk to Dr Wonderful, his primary pediatrician today but unfortunately John won't be able to come because he's .... GOLFING ... grrrrrrrrrrr. He did come to the last two appointments, though. Finally.

And while John and Imri are getting somewhat better, I am still sick as a dog. It's awful. I mean, this is the sickest I've been since Imri started daycare and it's going on two weeks now - laryngitis (complete loss of voice)which is slowly resolving and now a wonderful head cold with the type of sinus drainage that gives you a toothache. My nose has become a faucet. TMI, I know. It's not helped by Imri waking every two hours at night, either. Or by the fact that I have no sick time left at work. I finally caved and took benadryl last night.

Anyway ... thoughts and input? My RN gut is telling me "wait" on this but my mother instinct is saying "if there IS something wrong, better to catch it early". I am so verklempt.



Anyway, Happy Mother's Day to us all!

Esa einai ...

When we last checked in with our intrepid hero and his pediatrician (not Dr Wonderful, but Dr Matter-of-Fact) during his 6-month well-baby checkup, Dr MOF was concerned about a slightly enlarged spleen. I shrugged it off, as Imri has had so many ear infections and viri that I sort of did my mental "whatever". Well, not really. I just tried to tuck it somewhere in the back of my brain where it wouldn't scream at me constantly.

So yesterday when I brought him back to her, because of the Cough That Wouldn't Go Away and increasing amounts of snot, despite the antibiotics he's on, she took a moment to feel his spleen again. And it was still enlarged. And I could see the concern on Dr MOF's face. And (and I know I shouldn't start sentences with "and" but Mrs Smith, my 4th grade English teacher is not here right now)words started floating about the examining room.

"Blood disorders" ... "anemia" ... "sickle cell" ..."mononucleosis" ...and the one that had been niggling in the back of my brain ... "leukemia".

I have to tell you - I may be a hardened ICU nurse by trade and training but my world spun a fair bit there. Especially when Dr MOF ordered the bloodwork "stat" - my heart sunk.

I often write here how sweet-tempered my boy is ... and it's hard to explain to people who don't know him that he truly is but I will tell you - he didn't peep during bloodwork. Not a cry. Of course, yours truly kept him entertained during and held his little arm down (while swallowing back copious amounts of tears and smiling bravely at my oblivious boy)but he was such a good boy! Once we were done, I started sobbing and kissed the bewildered blood tech. Yeah.

I was in a dead sleep napping (my allotted nap courtesy of my dear John, who allowed himself two ...) when the phone rang. Dr MOF very kindly told us that everything looked good except for some anemia, to start him on yucky iron drops and that Imri may indeed have mono but we wouldn't know till Monday.
I said (in a very small voice) "no cancer??". She very kindly confirmed "no, no cancer. All looks good". In the grand scheme of things, I'll take mono any day out of all the options listed above.

Once I hung up, I burst into tears. John looked at me, perplexed. "Cancer?" he asked. "You said nothing about cancer." Yeah, I'm like that. I didn't see the need to worry him needlessly for a couple of weeks. As it is, we had already g0ogled "enlarged spleen, infant" till we were blue in the face.

So Imri, mommy and daddy are all fine, except for some laryngitis (mommy), smoking sinus crud (daddy) and a cold (Imri). And to make a good news day better, Imri only woke twice last night.

And while I am not even slightly a religious person, yesterday I raised my eyes to the sky beyond the mountains and gave thanks ...





Oh. And today ... another ear infection with a fever of 102.6 F. *sigh*. More antibiotics. Tubes are a-comin our way.

Much ado about sleep or the lack thereof.

We decided to start Imri sleeping in his crib. My beloved son, whom I love to snuggle with, loves to nurse all night long. And mommy doesn't sleep all night because of it, no squeezebox issues here. So the crib it is, and I am happy we made the switch for the most part.

So,we I started last week and again, for the most part it's been ok, excluding a major fight with John regarding Imri and crying at night, and how to exactly do this, because neither of us really wants to let him cry it out (CIO, for those in the know).

John and I have been dividing *coughcoughBULLSHITcoughcough* the shifts up, because my beautiful boy still wants to wake every 2-3 hours and eat. *sigh*.

This is how the nights have been going:

7:30 - nurse and to bed. Which is earlier than it had been but it seems to be when he is tiring these days.
8 or 8:30 - first wakening (sometimes, not always). More food provided by yours truly.
11:30 or so - crying and hungry. Nursed.
1:30 or 2:30 - crying and hungry. Nursed. Then bottle from dad.
4 or 4:30 - crying. Sometimes hungry, sometimes just needs paci.
5:00 - M/W/F - time to wake up and get going to daycare with mommy.

John is supposed to catch a couple of those shifts. He got the 2:00 last night. After I had already nursed Imri a bit and put him back to sleep - he awoke again and wanted more.

So, I am not sure what to do, because it seems to me that my son is (sometimes) legitimately hungry and other times he isn't. He is obviously having a tough time getting back to sleep on his own without nursing. We I have tried the 5 minute, ten minute thing and it doesn't seem to do a ton of good, not to mention that his father doesn't care for it (see:fight, major). Of course, his father isn't the one getting the brunt of the wakings.

His father is also in bed, asleep. Right now. On a Thursday morning. Because, you see ... I am sick. I am coughing up and dripping down yellow crud and have absolutely no voice. Imri has also started sneezing yellow stuff, despite being on antibiotics some 7-8 days now for another ear infection. John said (with no apparent symptoms and in an audible voice, no less) "I took some sinus stuff last night because I have what you have and it kept me up all night. I'm really tired, so I'm going to go get some rest". I just smiled. He asked me, of course, why I was smiling. Because he knows, damnit. I said "no reason" - because it just really isn't worth getting into. I mean, he wouldn't ask why I was smiling if he didn't already know.

Yeah, baby. And strangely, he didn't hear the baby crying last night, either - except for when I was already in there, nursing and one time, around 2:30. After I had already nursed Imri once and he re-awoke and wanted more.

Do I sound bitter? I am, a little. Mostly I'm bone tired. I was really hoping that having Imri sleep in his crib would finally lead to some rest for me and it's frustrating that it isn't. Maybe we're I'm doing this sleep thing wrong?

And I have to take Imri to the doctor at 1pm and also hope that my own doctor can fit me in today because I really need to be on some antibiotics. I told John that he can watch Imri when I see the doctor today.

I don't mean to be unfair to my husband. He is a good dad and a good man to be married to, it's just frustrating that (huge generalization coming, please ignore at your leisure) men just take the time for themselves and don't seem to think anything of it.

For example: John's nephew eloped and we've been invited to a party on a Saturday in early June. I mention it to my husband and he says "well, it's a busy weekend, you know. You see, it coincides with a (ick)golf tournament(on the Saturday) and the NASCAR race on the Sunday. So I'm not sure we can go".

At which point I looked at him absolutely incredulously and said: "You mean to tell me you've been planning to go to both events and leave me alone to care for the baby all weekend while you party?"

He had the grace to look shame-faced and then tried to wile his way out of it by saying that he had been debating which one he should give up .... uh-huh.

Again, my husband is a good man. He has two huge vices - golf - and that isn't a bad thing, except for that it takes an inordinate amount of time (and money, in my not so humble opinion) - and smoking. Which I won't get into again. Ok, I may but not right now.

And in fairness to him, he does "get it" sometimes, such as the time I went for the massage he got for me over the Xmas holidays and as I was leaving he said "and don't come back without some clothes, ok? I mean, jeans, khakis, some shirts ... you have nothing!" Which was nice to hear and I did, in fact, do some shopping for me, a rarity in my life. And he does put dinner on the table some days, he does do stuff around the house, he does care for Imri (mostly when I'm not there, but still), and he obviously dotes on him.

I don't mean to put him down and I hope I haven't here - I am just shaking my head and the stuff that's spewing out from said shaking is making it onto this page.
These are the major issues as I see them:

1)I am really not sure how to get Imri to sleep longer and not do CIO. Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?
2)I am still not getting much sleep and it is really affecting my health and wellbeing and my husband doesn't understand this much.
3)Work is sucking in a huge way, including lots of drama and major short-staffedness, not to mention my nurse manager who is being a total bint.
4)My husband is still smoking and doesn't often "get it", despite conversations about all said issues.

On the good side there is also plenty, however. Imri has decided he likes peaches. YAY!!!!! Finally, a solid I can feed him.













He also has taken a fancy to Granny Smith apples. Yes, the boy who turned up his nose at my freshly made Gala applesauce, stared at me as I munched on an apple and when I gave it to him, went completely bonkers over it. It was very funny.

Imri looked up at me the other day and said very distinctly "mama". I did a double take, looked at him and started to bawl. I am not sure he knows what it means but ... he knows it brings great excitement and tears! I can almost hear him thinking "what's with the food provider?? Nice lady, but kinda strange ... maybe I should try that mama thing again sometime. Ah, maybe not ... there's a toy!!...chomp."

He is also very close to crawling. He has the arm thing down pat but the leg thing isn't working quite yet.

Daycare continues to be a good situation for him - he is getting good care there.

And more than anything? He is just plain ol' deliciously wonderful! Such a happy child - and I am so so SO in love.


















And if you can stand one more good thing? My immigration papers are in and I have the receipts to prove it. Yay!! Now I just have to wait for them to schedule my fingerprinting session and then ... keep on waiting till they process me. Which may be a year or more. Hey, but at least I'm legal :)

Been gone gone gone so long ...

Yeah I know. Lame song. And if you were humming along with it and it sticks in your head like it has mine? You're old. I'm just sayin.

Passover was a dream come true. Imri traveled beautifully in the car - I did the not-to-be-forgiven thing of actually taking him out of his car seat intra-trip and holding him a little while John drove. My son is a very alert boy who loves to look at everything and that helped soothe him and actually lull him to sleep. Sometimes. He didn't sleep much on the trip, but he was amazingly well behaved.

So well behaved that family at our Seder commented on how late it was and how uncranky Imri was. Seriously folks, he doesn't really cry when tired. He just seems to get more and more alert and watchful of all the goings on. When at home and tired, then he does cry a little but it's more a plea "please nurse me and let me drift off at the boob. Please?".

Well behaved at my cousin's wedding reception, well-behaved at the Seder that night. A delight and joy, really. Held and played with by multitudes of adoring family ... and welcomed into our "clan" by my uncle, father of the bride who called attention to his entrance into our clan. We had family in from Israel and across North America and the joy of everyone at Imri's birth and his presence amongst them was incredible - he was welcomed into our "clan" by so many and got many many gifts that were unexpected. Imri is the newest descendant of our common ancestor, whom we often refer to and whose name I will not mention for fear of Dr G00gle.

But it was a moment of pride and joy as Imri was held aloft and welcomed into our extended family - the kind that brings tears now. I took many many pictures, of course. One of the most memorable moments for me, is that of sitting beside my father as he sang his father's melody of "Chad Gaddya" to Imri. I have to say - having my infant son beside his Zeda (grandfather) as he told the story of the Exodus from Egypt and from slavery was incredible - and the look on my father's face as he sang the age-old songs to my boy was beyond description. I am so blessed with riches. It's something I will remember as long as I live.

Another sweet memory is Imri playing at my parents wooden table -it's a very unique table and as children, we used to crawl through its spaces. Now my niece and nephew do that ... and it won't be long before Imri does. But my mom held him as he played with the table's knobs, lumps and metal pieces. (Points for those who can spot the pacifier ...)My parents bought that table the year I was born - and we have pictures of me and my brother playing at it as our Boba and Zeda held us and sat nearby.



I didn't expect so much joy and celebration at Imri's presence, honestly. I think my generation sometimes forgets that the birth of every Jewish baby is something for us to truly celebrate since we lost 6 million not that long ago. It's made even more special for me, because of infertility and all that happened so that he could be here. So this was an incredibly special and momentous Passover and I wanted to share with you all how lucky and blessed I feel that Imri got to spend this time with family who love him so completely.

My father said "I'll be 90 at his bar-mitzvah" ... not "if I make it" or anything like that, but a statement that he would be there. I told him I'm holding him to it :)

Ah but life is good. I won't hardly mention the terrible stomach flu that struck us all down one by one or the ear infection or AF ... but life is good. It was worth every tear, all the pain, everything, to have this time etched in my memory for ever. I would do it again in a heartbeat.


As for my immigration fears and woes - well, we decided to use a different and busier port of entry into the USA and the border guard looked at me, looked at my passport and wished us a good day. That's it. After all my fears. *sigh*. And as of yesterday, we have officially sent off my permanent residency paperwork, so if there is any luck to be had, wish it upon me. I'm hoping to have my green card by this time next year, INS and DHS willing.

And to top it off, Imri is getting so big. He is sitting up on his own and is so close to crawling. He "talks" and is making himself understood in different ways - he definitely understands "hungry" and "boob". That's my boy ...
He goes for his 6 month appointment next week but saw the doc last week because of a "maybe" ear infection and he is ... 19 pounds and 13 ounces. At 6 months. He is still teething a lot but no sign of teeth yet, just mucho drool.

All in all a good several days and a time I will always remember. I am so glad we got to go home. Home. Yeah. And John is talking more and more about moving to Canada. A girl can always hope, you know.

Happy Passover!

More when we return from Canada. Have a great holiday!

Another bout of crud

A quickie here because I've been neglecting the Internets lately. Funny how that is between working part-time (30 hours a week) and taking care of my son (how sweet that sounds)the rest of the time. I'm amazed I still find time to shower. Well, I don't sometimes but that's a whole nuther posting.

Imri has another ear infection. *sigh*. Again, no signs or symptoms - the only thing that clues me in is his need to nurse all night long - and even that is a guess on my part. I'm never sure. I was wracked with mommy guilt: "how could I not know my child was sick??? I must be a bad mommy!" and while I know that's not true, part of it tweaks that place inside, like a tongue worrying a sore tooth.

I'm just glad we had the follow-up appointment with Dr Wonderful. She is delighted with him; she always comments on how alert he is and has since day one. This time she clasped her hands gleefully at the sight of him "tripoding" (for those not in the know, like myself - sitting on his tuchas and balancing himself with two arms forward)and at his babbling. Yes, my boy is forming consonants as well as vowels and he grows more delicious each day. He also has rolled over from front to back! He seems to think this is quite the game, and though he tries mightily, he can't quite roll from back to front. Almost but not quite. Imri also keeps opening and closing his hammy hands, as if realizing "hey! these things actually work!". He is reaching for all and everything and it's amazing to watch him. Oh, and his laughter ... that amazing sound. I'd do anything to hear him laugh.

However, Imri decided to projectile vomit all over the place last night - these are the times that I remain grateful that we co-sleep. While I am aware that he probably wouldn't have aspirated the vomit, it certainly helped that I was right beside him and turned him immediately onto his side, then help him aloft, stomach down, as he proceeded to spew all over my freshly laundered sheets. After I changed him and John changed the bed, I nursed him and we went back to sleep ... well, almost asleep because just as we were about to drift off, Imri felt the need to repeat the performance.
I did call the pedi then (midnight plus)and although Imri snubbed his nose at the pro-offered water and later the pedi@lyte, he did nurse slowly (with me trying to block large gulps from happening) and finally drifted back to sleep. He did, anyway. I slept poorly, waking frequently to make sure he was still 1)free of any further vomit and 2)breathing. Call me silly. Go ahead.

So, an ear infection and a tummy virus - he did have diarrhea the day before at daycare and then for me, but I foolishly thought it was gone. Today he has been better but still subdued. Still diarrhea. No vomiting but definitely not as hungry as he usually is and much fussier than normal. But every now and then, he looks up at me and smiles that gorgeous smile and all is well again. He is so very beautiful.


Especially in this onesie ...

Very little about baby

I wish I had something scintillating to say. So before the next kvetch-fest, I send you to March Madness where you too can get involved in figuring out the Conservative brackets. I'm hoping that come November the conservatives will have no brackets left. May I just note that South Dakota has BANNED abortion. Yes, that state has actually legislated against abortion except for when the life of the pregnant woman is in danger. Yet another blow against women and their right to control their bodies and fertility. Please vote wisely come November.

To add insult to injury, as with the rest of the infertile blogosphere, I am incensed by the president of Resolve's comments to Newsweek magazine - way to perpetuate stereotypes, dude. Thanks so much.

Now given, my particular problems were not caused by medical issues per se, no endo (at least not much), no PCOS (only a suspicion), just minor Hashimoto's and hypothyroidism. And even that wasn't really it - more a tubal issue, thanks to an ectopic, thanks to a mixed up relationship, thanks to being a screwed up teen-ager, thanks to a million reasons which are too complex to delve into early on a Sunday morning.

So ... yeah, I kind of fit into both categories and I was still insulted by the president of Resolve's interview and subsequent mea culpa (or lack thereof). Since when do you let the reporter dictate the kind of interview you're going to give? Don't give us a cop-out answer about how the reporter really wanted to focus on this or that aspect - tell the damned reporter "these are my conditions for doing the article" or no dice. Believe me - they want you for the story as much as they want to cover certain "aspects". Yeesh.

A lot of women in the blogosphere have written letter to Resolve - I wish I was as articulate as Brooklyn Girl
or as inspiredarticulateerrr heartfelt as Beaver Girl or any number of the women who wrote in anger, but the fact is - I am not. And while I'm name-dropping, please wish Akeeyu, Julia and Julianna good luck. Please.

So I kvetch here instead. Yes, you got one kvetch-free entry, if you're an infertile, you didn't dare hope for another. I debated taking down my Resolve link but I decided against it - after all, they do good, despite their asshole of a president. And - why exactly - and herein my bias will show - why exactly is the president a male? Not to be ignorant - heck, male infertility is a fact, but it just seems to me that men head so many organizations where women are the main participants/victims/users/insertwhateverfitshere.

That's definitely true in nursing.

I guess this would be a great jump-off into how much I have come to dislike working with women, but ... *shrug*. What else is new? Can you tell there is strife at work?

The sad part is that even if I left my job (which I do like, despite having a defensive/passive-aggressive/play favourites-type boss), I know that it will not be much different anywhere else. I have worked in many varied environments in my healthcare career; psychiatry, ICU, ambulatory care, telephone triage, regular nursing floor - and the environment rarely changes. Even if you're lucky enough to have a good nurse manager, which sadly is a rarity, the cattiness, back-stabbing and gossiping amongst the staff (and doctors, don't forget the doctors)is enough to drive you bananas. I'm not certain if it's women or nursing. Maybe it's both. And maybe that's where the president of Resolve gets it from - hell knows, he fits right in.

I love being a nurse. I love what I do, no matter where I do it and it which setting it is performed - caring for patients and doing my absolute best for them means a great deal to me. It makes a difference in people's lives, whether it's saving a life in the "every second counts" atmosphere of ICU, or helping alleviate the sometimes paralyzing fear of a patient about to undergo an endoscopy. I love it and I'm good at it. I just wish nurses ...well, I just wish we could all get along. Maybe then we could actually unite and cause something good to happen. The nursing workforce is huge, seriously. There are a few hundred thousand registered nurses across the United States - that should be some serious political power for change. Instead, we are torn apart by in-fighting and cattiness.

I suppose I'm not much better. I have not done much except kvetch about it.

Perhaps this kvetch was brought about by receiving one of the area's nursing magazines and seeing the nurse week gear they had for sale. I want none of it - and I really want to want it, baby. I do - well, other than the inane "nurses are angels" crap. I mean, really, folks. But I want to want the cute "don't mess with my mom, she's a nurse" outfit for Imri. I want to want the "RN" license plates you can get in Maryland. And I treasure the stuff my husband (and patients) have given me in the past. But something about all this nurse stuff - and not just the gear - leaves me cold.

And that makes me sadder than my meagre writing skills can describe.





I feel so much better now

A kvetch-free entry

I just re-read several of my last entries and realized something important. I've been kvetching in all of them. So I hereby promise you a kvetch-free post.

Imri has started laughing. It is the most wonderful sound I've ever heard (and yes, that includes the one and only time I ever heard in stereo, accomplished with the help of certain pharmaceuticals).

Imri stands on my lap - stands, I tell you. He stands and holds himself upright, I only contribute the balance factor. And he jumps and jumps and jumps - and he laughs, that open-mouthed, happy-eyed, wonderful laugh.

Then, I sit him on my knee and bounce him and sing "bippity boppety boo" and we bounce and he smiles. I stop bouncing ... and start again. He looks up at me and the smile grows huge. I stop once more ... and bounce once. He giggles. I bounce him again ... he starts to laugh and laugh, his glee-filled eyes bright and shining and joyous.

He is reaching for things - my hair, my nose, my mouth. Anything he can grab in his chubby little hands or cram in his own mouth. He is a mere hair's breadth away from being able to roll onto his stomach. He is so close to being able to sit up unassisted.
Ah yes, life is good. Way good.

Even if we do have another ear infection.

Run, kitty ... run!

Imri is at a really great stage right now. He's come to the realization that there are things outside himself - and that he can not only entertain himself, but interact, as well.
This is good for all involved but the cat.

Imri has fallen in love with one of our cats, Simcha. He looks for her constantly and smiles big when she comes into view. Yesterday I said "Imri, where's the cat?" and he turned his head until he saw her. I was most impressed. Imri is most impressed with her tail. Oy.














Simcha has always been the more standoffish of our two cats, but she has taken a keen interest in our little guy and has been very patient with his clutching at her fur. She actually comes and seeks him out - it's pretty cute.
On the other hand, my big cat Shimon started pulling out his fur three months after Imri was born. Depo shots have only held him for a couple of weeks and he starts again. He looks like he has a mohawk. It's very distressing and I really don't know what to do. It's a sheer stress response and I wish I had the time I used to have to cuddle him - he was always my baby - but I just don't. And I hate having to push him away when he tries to sleep up against the baby, but I do, for obvious reasons. I may have to put him on Paxil or something. Thoughts? Ideas? Suggestions?

And just so you know - Augmentin is from the devil. Imri had 8(!!!!) diarrhea-filled diapers in three hours after only 2 days on it. I called and spoke to a nurse about my concerns regarding: 1) dehydration, 2) his poor bottom which looked awful and 3)the need for some other course of action because he was obviously miserable.
The nurse argued with me. "It's not that kind of diarrhea" she said in response to concern number one. I raised my brow - which she couldn't see, of course, but if she had been able to see, she would have known that she should stop there.

Because, boys and girls ... how the hell does she know what kind of diarrhea it is? Has she seen it? And two ... diarrhea is diarrhea and Imri is only 4 1/2 months old. So there's a definite concern of dehydration, especially in one so young and with the extreme response over such a short time. I was unhappy. I reiterated to her my concerns regarding his bottom - if it looked this bad after 2 days of Augmentin and he needed to do 10 days ... well, it wasn't looking good.

She seemed most eager to get me off the phone - told me she would ask one of the doctors and someone would get back to me.

Which she did a couple of hours later only to say "we need the name of a pharmacy in case the doctor decides to put him on something else". I gave her the info and told her that they better think of another option for him as I had not (and would not) give(n) him his morning dosage of Augmentin. She exclaimed at the importance of continuing his medication, despite everything and yadda yadda yadda at which point I finally cut her off and brought out the big guns.

I told her I was a nurse.

If nothing else, it shut her up.

I will say this - for the most part, the nurses at the center are wonderful. She was just rubbing me the wrong way. Sure, I'm not the most reasonable of women sometimes, but her responses made no sense to me. So I pulled out my trump card. Sue me.

My mother will tell all and sundry that I'm a nurse - when my brother was in a car accident (nothing terribly serious), she kept telling the doctor in the ER "but my daughter is a nurse at VeryImportantHospitalinBaltimore!!!". Oy. I hate telling other medical professionals that I'm an RN. But when it comes to my son's health ... hey. I got over my hatred very quickly.

In the end, a doc called me (mine wasn't there that day) and I brought Imri in to see a different pedi - the verdict? His ears looked a lot better, no redness, swelling or pus and his eye is just fine and we decided to stop all medications and follow up next week.

So I'm thinking - maybe our sick patch is over. It would be nice! And I'm looking forward to and planning for Passover. We're driving up to Toronto ... with Imri.
He'll be six months old then. I can't even believe it.

And behind door number 3 ...

These are the highlights of this week, so far:

Imri still has gunk in his eye, even after a week of antibiotic drops. And his nose is still runny and he still has a bit of a cough. We go back to Dr Wonderful today.

Imri is pooping REGULARLY! Yay! He loves his oatmeal cereal. Still turning his nose up at fruit but tolerated ... and I mean tolerated, some sweet potatoes. He still looks at me with a "lady, what the hell are you feeding me" look when I try anything but cereal.

John went golfing on Saturday, despite the fact that he was sick with my a cold. I didn't get the promised break on Sunday. Grrrrr.

Not only did I not get a break on Sunday, I also cleaned, vacuumed and did laundry. And took care of Imri. Oh, did I mention that I went grocery shopping and showered during my one hour "break"?

If I hear "I think he pooped" rather than "I'm going to change the baby" one more time, something is gonna get broken. I'm just sayin'.

I love me some Lilypadz (now that I've figured out how to use them properly)!

Because I am a shallow and vindictive bitch, I am delighted to report that I got some money back from the Wall of Marts. Egads, I hate them.

Imri was sleeping in his carseat, placed on the cart in plain view - the cashier took my flat of water bottles and THREW it into the cart, waking him up. Threw. As in tossed it, full strength. I was incredulous. I looked at her and said "I have a sleeping baby in there!!!" .

She shrugged and kind of laughed. Oh, am I hot about that. AND she forgot to ring up my coupons and told me I'd have to go to customer service ... yeah, with a crying (thanks to her!) baby. Right. I figured I'd swallow the $1.25. All she would have had to do was say "sorry" and I would have cooled right down.

So the next day, I trotted on back to the store because I decided to return something. In the meantime, there was a coupon for $5.00 off some Swiffer thing I purchased, which was inside the package. So, I brought it in and had them discount it and my other coupons. Not that they care about five bucks, but it sure made me feel better.

I told the customer service manager the whole story and she didn't give a rat's ass about it.
Unbelievable. I hate that store.

Update

Imri has an ear infection ... in both ears. Here comes the Augmentin! Has your baby gotten thrush from Augmentin? Poor little guy - he has been such a happy boy too, hardly complaining at all.

I thought breastfeeding would keep those evil germs at bay. Oh well. Dr Wonderful did say that John's smoking could be the culprit ... Ahem. I brought that to his attention tout suite. Or, "right away" for those who are not French-enabled.

And can I just say ... I knew motherhood would be good. I had no idea it would be this good. Ear infections, poop, pinkeye and all. It really is an amazing voyage.

Full of it

What's that Carly Simon song? Co-oonnsstipaation? OK, so I'm awful, sue me.

Imri started rice cereal last week and he loves it. LOVES it. Only it doesn't love him, as it gave him some pretty robust constipation. He usually goes every 2-3 days but it had been a week - so I called the nurse line and they advised 4 oz of prune juice twice a day and a half glycerin suppository to get things going.

Imri took 2 oz of prune juice and called it an evening. He gave me the "what the hell are you feeding me, lady??" look when I attempted some Stage 1 pears (to my surprise and shock, seriously. I thought he'd love fruit!) and the same reaction to applesauce - he even spat it out. Hmmmph. So much for that idea. I'm thinking it's a texture thing.

That night, the heat of his little body woke me - 102.5. Yikes! I quickly gave him Tylenol and took off his sleeper to cool him down. Poor little guy.
By the next morning still no poop and to top it all off, he had developed a lovely case of pinkeye. He couldn't even open the left eye, it was so caked with crud. He raised his nose in disdain at the offered prune juice. Apple juice fared just as poorly. His temp was 101, he was unhappy and miserable, with a sneeze and tickling cough. I called the doc - my usual pedi was booked solid so we got him into another ped, whom in hindsight I'll call Dr Indifferent.

Off to the doctor we went. Dr Indifferent was rough with my boy - while I understand that he needs to do a physical exam to rule out a bowel obstruction or hernia, Dr Wonderful (Imri's usual pedi)is so gentle ... Dr Indifferent made Imri cry. I wasn't pleased, especially when he went digging around in his ear to make sure he didn't have an ear infection which made him scream. Rough, I'm telling you. I won't be booking with him again.
When he asked me what I did, and I told him - he became animated for the first time and kept talking about the virtues of computer charting with great passion. I tried redirecting towards my son ... *sigh*. Anyway, I finally got antibiotic drops for Imri's eye and a recommendation for "rectal stimulation" from Indifferent, despite my assurances that I had been trying that for the past several days without success. He also tut-tutted about our co-sleeping status and told me to stop the oatmeal cereal for a few days.

I ended up calling the nurse back that afternoon and explaining that my son seemed quite uncomfortable, despite the half glycerin suppository I had given him a couple of hours before, with no results(Indifferent had been ...well ... indifferent about giving him anything)and gave her the full lowdown. She exclaimed in dismay and told me that Dr Wonderful had gone for the day (sadly) but she would see if she could get another doc to give me a call.

20 minutes later the phone rang - it was Dr Wonderful. I love that woman! She listened and suggested a full glycerin suppository this time, went over the signs and symptoms of a bowel obstruction, told me to keep up the oatmeal cereal because of the fiber, to try mixing it with juice instead of EBM and to let him eat whenever he wanted - even just a snack, because she was concerned about dehydration. Professional and sympathetic to the nines - I am lucky to have her as Imri's pediatrician and I thanked her muchly.

I took my poor little guy upstairs and gave him the full suppository which he was not pleased with. He was restless and fitful and generally not himself at all, passing lots of very smelly gas and just being an unhappy boy. Who can blame him?

A couple of hours later, I went to change him - nothing yet. I took the rectal thermometer yet again and menacingly waved it in Imri's general direction and lo and behold!! Poop started spurting out all over the place!

Never have I been so happy to see poop in my life. And amazingly, Imri became his usual sun-shiny and sweet self not moments after the end of the poop session.

We are back to relative normal now ... and hoping for some smooth sailing from here on in. Oh and ... he hates oatmeal cereal with juice. Oh well.

Happy Valentine's Day

Well, as mentioned previously, I've been sick. It started last Monday with a sore throat and cold. I missed work on Wednesday and went in on Friday - it seemed to be getting better. Imri got whatever I had but just a runny nose and a little cough.
And then suddenly I got worse. A lot worse.
It hurt to swallow - everything hurt, my nose was running, I was coughing up crud, I lost my voice again. I ended up leaving work early yesterday - a week after this all started - and went to the doctor. Turns out I have a sinus infection AND bronchitis and if I had waited much longer, I probably would have developed pneumonia.

So I'm on antibiotics now (and hoping Imri doesn't get thrush) and feeling a touch better. And to top it off, my period arrived this morning.

OH ... and my wonderful husband who has been very good to me since I took a turn for the worse, ate last night at the $heetz (gas station/fast food place)because I've not been cooking and now has terrible stomach cramps and vomiting/diarrhea. Classic food poisoning.

And, Imri had his 4 month appointment today with shots(my boy is four months old!!!!!)and is a cranky-pants, on top of his cough/runny nose. He weighs 17 (!!!) pounds and is nearly 26 inches long. My doc said "you grow 'em big". Big and beautiful! He's really amazing - talking and babbling and exploring. Imri is my heart's delight in every sense. It's such a big love, you know? Even when he's a cranky-pants.

Yeah, so we're having fun at Chez Chaos. Now you understand why I call it that.

Oh, did I mention my stepson who may not graduate high school because he's not turning in his graduation project appropriately? I am SO tired of wiping a 17 year old's ass, it's not funny.

Now here's the thing ... my boss, who is sweet as honey to me one day and won't look me in the eye on the following day didn't actually want me to leave work when I was sick. Even though it wasn't a busy day, even though I came to her towards the end of the day and hoarsely asked her if it was ok if I left after my procedure room was finished (although she had nurses to replace me if she had wanted to). The first thing out of her mouth was "do you have a fever?" in a fairly hostile tone. Ummm ... I don't usually carry a thermometer to work with me, so I didn't really have an answer for her. She didn't even have the couth to say "feel better". It was "well, if you have to go" .

I mean - I was *sick*. I had no voice, I looked like crap and was coughing up a lung. Ignoring the obvious "this is not good for patients or co-workers", I don't get why she didn't offer to send me home long before that. It was glaringly obvious to everyone how sick I was, even a couple of the docs asked me why I wasn't going home. I told them "because it wasn't offered". 'Nuff said. (In my defense, I wasn't feeling that awful at 5am, you know? It just got progressively worse - by 9 am I was terrible).

This is the same boss who, when I told her the other day that I might have to leave work early because Imri wasn't feeling well at daycare and was probably getting my cold, said to me with open hostility in her voice "doesn't he have immunity to that from you breastfeeding??" The same boss who told me that I could either find alternative daycare pronto or find another job?

I'm baffled, really. She's always had favourites and I was never one but when
I was pregnant everything changed and she was super nice to me. Now I'm no longer pregnant and it's as if I've suddenly become Public Enemy number one. If I was a slacker, I'd see her point but I'm one of the hardest workers they have - I know my work ethic and have no hesitation in saying that. So what gives? It's almost like she thinks I'm lying to her. Thoughts, ideas, suggestions?



So to you all ... Happy Valentine's Day from our house to yours and may your hearts be as full as mine is (despite everything)on this day of love.