We were sitting in her room with sleepy eyes staring at one another as she ate her breakfast, and right about the time she was finishing her eyes got wide and out came a waterfall of milk. Again. And again. We were both soaked from head to toe. She was dazed for a minute, but then seemed to be fine. No crying or fussing. I ran a warm bath, and she couldn't wait to get in and splash around. After she was all clean, lathered in lotion, and dressed in comfy, sick clothes she was ready to lay back down. She slept for 2 1/2 hours, and woke up talking and seemingly herself. I nursed her, and all seemed fine. I carried her on my hip to the kitchen to start preparing Paul's lunch, and she seemed to be holding the milk down just fine. Within a few minutes, the kitchen floor was showered. Pressure washed would be more accurate I suppose. It was so sad to see her little body heaving so forcefully. After lunchtime snuggles with Dad, and yet another 2 hour nap we tried the process over again, ending similarly but with a small change. This time around, instead of small smiles and a bit of activeness, she laid in my arms for the better part of an hour just staring up at me and occasionally touching my face with her soft hands. Just as we were getting comfortable on the couch wrapped up in a blanket, the vomiting started again. Poor baby!
After yet another outfit change for both of us, I noticed she had yet to urinate for the day. This concerned me as it had been 9 hours since her last wet diaper, and with her small, little peanut self she could get dehydrated quickly. I called Grandma D for the third time, and she suggested I call our doctor and see what they would recommend. In to the doctor's office we went. Paul came home a few minutes early and joined us. It was a new doctor to us, and we truly enjoyed him! He was a firm breastfeeding advocate, didn't suggest medication except as a last result, and was so sweet with Zaylee. She on the other hand, didn't seem to think so as she started crying when he went to touch her. For being sick and miserable all day, those were her first tears, and for that I was thankful. Once he stopped poking at her, she calmed down and for the rest of the appointment she stared him down making sure she was safe in my arms! Paul is always so sweet with her, and she truly settles right down when he sings to her in French. If I could bottle up those sweet moments, I most definitely would!
When we returned home, I nursed her a bit and we watched her to make sure she was keeping it down. She did, and seemed to be feeling a bit better. The color started returning to her face, and her eyes lit up a bit more. As we were getting her into her pajamas, Paul had her laughing so hard as he kissed her bare belly. I guess after a day of mostly silence, she needed a good belly laugh! She went down for the night at 6:30 without a peep. I fed her before we went to bed in hopes to hydrate her a bit more, and at around 3:30am I heard something coming from her room. Sure enough, Zay had thrown up a bit in her bed. I snuggled her for a while and back to sleep she went. Today she seems 90%, and woke with a very wet diaper. For that I was thankful!
The one plus side to a sick baby girl is the amount of extra snuggles this Mom received. Oh how I love her so!
No comments:
Post a Comment