Saturday night, his fever seemed to be lessening, but he was developing a very stuffy nose and a bad cough. I'm used to hearing his "I'm irritated and about to start crying" cough, which warns us that we'd better pick him up now, or else. So it was so strange to hear him coughing for real the other night. He had a different voice. He didn't sound like my baby at all. It was more like an odd dog bark.
We used the nose-sucker bulb on him, which is always satisfyingly effective, but a much-hated experience for him. I never knew these things existed until I had a baby, but it's such a cleverly simple invention. I mean, Sly has no idea how to blow his nose into a tissue. So the only way to relieve him of some of his snot-abundance is to suck it out of there!
The snot-sucker
Saturday night, I experienced what all moms have warned me about - the sleeplessness of a sick baby. Let me preface this by explaining that Tom and I have been very fortunate in getting a baby who sleeps AWESOMELY through the night. True, his first week home was terrible - his days and nights were "switched" as with most babies. But we also had my mother-in-law staying with us, to share some "shifts" during the night, and help us calm him down. After that first week of life, though, he started learning to sleep through the night. Four-hour stretches at first, then five, and so on. By one month old, he was sleeping for nine straight hours, waking up just to nurse, and then back to sleep for another hour or two! We have been massively spoiled.
So Saturday night was quite an unpleasant shift. My poor little man woke up at least every half hour. All night long. He'd cough and sniffle himself awake repeatedly. It seemed as if he was actually being scared awake, from the violent and sudden reaction each time. And Tom, who never even stirred once, was completely unhelpful. After Sly woke up the second time in twenty minutes, I realized it was going to be a long night. I took him out of his own bedroom where we'd set up a nice humidifier for him, and just brought him into bed with me. Throughout the night, he continued to wake up from his coughing. We soon developed a pattern: He'd wake us up with a deep cough, sounding like a little changeling baby instead of my Sly; I'd grab the saline drops and snot-sucker to quickly perform a nose-clearing job that made him scream even louder (and yet Tom still wouldn't budge from his sleep); then I'd nestle him into the crook of my arm, and rock and shush him back to sleep by my side.
We made it through, though, and I think the worst is past. He still has his cold, but last night went much more smoothly. Today he has his four-month doctor's visit, so we'll see what he says.
So Saturday night was quite an unpleasant shift. My poor little man woke up at least every half hour. All night long. He'd cough and sniffle himself awake repeatedly. It seemed as if he was actually being scared awake, from the violent and sudden reaction each time. And Tom, who never even stirred once, was completely unhelpful. After Sly woke up the second time in twenty minutes, I realized it was going to be a long night. I took him out of his own bedroom where we'd set up a nice humidifier for him, and just brought him into bed with me. Throughout the night, he continued to wake up from his coughing. We soon developed a pattern: He'd wake us up with a deep cough, sounding like a little changeling baby instead of my Sly; I'd grab the saline drops and snot-sucker to quickly perform a nose-clearing job that made him scream even louder (and yet Tom still wouldn't budge from his sleep); then I'd nestle him into the crook of my arm, and rock and shush him back to sleep by my side.
We made it through, though, and I think the worst is past. He still has his cold, but last night went much more smoothly. Today he has his four-month doctor's visit, so we'll see what he says.
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