The only thing more pathetic and miserable than a poorly baby is its parent. Baby R has a bad cold, perhaps croup, too, judging by the seal barking. And yes, me and The Boss are pretty damn miserable and upset. Poor little mite. At least it’s not The Boss’s hand, foot & mouth (!) It’s R’s 5th ever cold and as the previous ones were very minor, it’s taken me by surprise.
Her chest is rattling as she breathes; her cough obviously hurts her; crying hurts her, which makes her cry more; her snot is now greeny-yellow with a trickle of blood mixed in, and she has a wheeze. Yesterday she woke me up at 4.30am struggling to breath past thick phlegm, then spent the day barely moving, very lethargic, glassy-eyed, and feverish, so I took her to the doctor’s. I was expecting a hefty dose of dexamethasone, assuming croup, but instead got some amoxicillin. Hmmm. But given the colour of R’s snot today, I guess he knew best after all.
I’m writing this in a 10 min break from 48 hrs of cuddling. Thank heavens I’m still breastfeeding, so can give her instant comfort. And thank heavens I’ve not lost all my baby fat, so she has something squishy to snuggle into. Right now, the nurofen is coursing through her baby veins, so she’s hissing at her soft book and growling at me as best she can with terrible hoarseness. It’s a huge improvement, so I’ll stop thinking all the silly paranoid mummy thoughts, put her down and rest my aching back (my lovely physio today felt along my spine and expressed surprise at how tight and stiff it was: “No wonder it hurts”. See, Bossman? I’m not making it up).
Anyway, to the nub of this post! Thank goodness for product testing. Coincidentally, I’m testing and reviewing 2 baby nasal aspirators just now for an online company, and frankly they’ve been a godsend. I use one while the other is drying out. One is electrical and a right faff to take apart, clean, use, etc. etc. All to separate you (the parent) as far as possible from the mucky snot. However, the one I’ve used most is pretty unpleasant to use, but by golly it works! It’s basically a long tube with a bit of sponge in the middle. Yes, you know where this is going: you suck the snot out. The length and the sponge are pretty much all that stop the goo getting to you (though I’m not so sure about viruses…). So, you get to see your infant’s bubbling nose oyster up close. Through the conduction of vibrations through your lips and teeth, you get to *feel* it coming out. I won’t even describe the stomach-churning, gurgling splotch sound it makes. <grooooo> Only a devoted parent badly in need of sleep and teeth-chatteringly frazzled from constant crying can handle it, believe me.