The Baby Cold.

Dislike.

Burrito started a little while ago with a stuffy nose, and yesterday it escalated into a full-on runny nose, complete with coughing. Such coughing, in fact, that he actually vomited twice yesterday morning. Thankfully, not on ma's work clothes. He seemed fine after he got all the mucous (and some milk) out, so we took him to daycare.

The coughing? May have gotten a little worse. I was supposed to go to a meeting last night but elected to stay home so I could nurse him as much as he wanted, which was A Lot. Lot. He coughed when he was upset pretty much, so we tried to keep him as calm and content as possible.

He woke up at 330am, after hubs and I went down to see the eclipse (looked like a big orange moon with dark parts and light parts, folks), probably because he heard us talking. Nursed, coughed a little more, was tormented by the nasal aspirator boogie-sucker, coughed a bit more, then went back to sleep with his pac.

Woke again at 640, which is when hubs rolled over to ask me when I was getting up. I'm thinking he stirs when he hears his voice, because I've talked to him before and nada. So we nursed then as well, and handed off to daddy for burping while I got a shower. Apparently he enjoyed that, because he spit up all over daddy, lol. Attacked him with the boogie-sucker a few more times, then packed him up for daycare.

I let them know that his cold was a little worse, and that he liked being upright so that his mucous wouldn't clog him up and make him cough. I also told them where his boogie-sucker was in his bag so they could attack him as well. She informed me that there were respiratory things and ear infections going around, so be sure to watch for signs of that too. Greeaaaaat. I feel so bad for the kid. I was sick last week, so I can't help thinking this has something to do with his cold. I'm drinking my oj and popping my PNVs, so hopefully keeping myself "well" will help him too. Because I can't stand baby coughs!

Daycare - almost 3 days down.

The First Day:

We got there around 815, I had wanted to be there by 8 but I'm always late to everything, so why should that change now that I have even more to do in the mornings? ::sigh::
I don't have a code for the front door yet, but the director and owner recognize me. Walk in, hit the computer sign-in program, and go down the hall to the infant room, where the sign says "Welcome Benjamin and (other new baby)!" We either have to take our shoes off or wear booties, and obviously my shoe choice that day was boots, so I opted for the booties. Sex-ay.

I went in, said g'morning to the teachers, and set the burrito down to put his things away. Diaper bag to the cubby, blanket to his crib, bottles in the frig in his little plastic bin. I filled out his morning info (last nap? diaper? feeding? how's he doing this morning?) and didn't really know what to do then. The teacher with a squeaky voice (now that I think about it, she kinda reminds me of shelly duvall) asked if he was hungry, and he probably was, but when she warmed up the bottle to try it, he wasn't interested - he was looking around at everything. It was so darn bright in there.

I left his carseat there for hubs to pick him up, along with his blanket (thanks auntie Kim!) and his 3-6mo knit hat and sweater (thanks grandma shurl!) and just kind of moseyed my way to the door. I must have said goodbye about ten times. I just didn't want to go. : (

I didn't call in until about 2pm, and they said that he was doing fine, and was a happy baby, but didn't eat much. He took about 1/2oz, then 1oz, then 3, then 3. He had two leftover bottles (it said on their info sheet that I should send 4), which I then sent with him the next day. I figured it was just that he was in new surroundings, with new faces/shapes/colors/bright lights, and that he'd eat more later. He did. Of course, it took me a freakin hour to get home, thanks stupidlocalhighway. When I got home, it wasn't like he was wagging his tail and running up to me like another household item (who also peed on the floor, natch), so I wasn't expecting much. But like I said, he was a bit ravenous and ate for longer than usual. He seemed like he was sleepy, lethargic almost, and wary of his surroundings. It took him about two hours to be back to his "normal" happy baby self, and then he was smiling and chatting away.

He woke up twice in the night to eat - 2am and 550, which he hasn't done for a little while now, so he must have been starved. Hubs did say that when he went to pick him up, his hands were freezing, and the room was cold, so I'm going to see how it is today when I go to pick him up, and then address it with the center director and teachers. He does have mittens, if his hands were cold I'd hope they would use them. Maybe they forgot I packed them?...Maybe it was just the weather on Monday which was colder than the norm lately.

Yesterday, he ate a little more, but wasn't as happy baby as the first day. He hasn't taken his usual naps either, going down for only a half hour to hour at a time. He usually goes for a good 1+ in the morning and 2 in the afternoon. We'll see if it's just getting used to daycare. Hubs reported some green poop as well when he picked him up, which had happened once before, the first time he had a bottle. Is that common? Interwebs?

Last night was a little bit better, he started napping when I took him to the store, and went down for the count at about 930. Slept until about 330, when he started fussing - I woke him up to eat. My boobs were a'hurtin by that point, whee engorgement. He went back to sleep, I went downstairs to pump the other boob, and he woke up again at 650 for the day.

I really have to start getting up at 630 like my alarm clock says. Can't there be more hours in a day? and less days in a year? we don't need all those days in August. Take some back, Julius Caesar.

The All-Important First Day Back At Work.

or, the one where I watch the clock.

SOOOO, today was my first day back at work. Technically; is my first day, since I don't leave until 530. I aimed to get up at 630 this morning, but burrito had other plans, and woke me with some serious whining at 550 to eat. When he had eaten and spit up on himself, we went downstairs, where he took a lil catnap in his swing, and I proceeded to go about my day.

- fill bottles (found hole in one bag of milk, spilled all over frig and floor)
- eat breakfast (dog has to go out in middle of breakfast, honey nut mini-wheats are now soggy)
- get bpump items together (find that I cannot find the pump bag, have to use tote from charity walk 3 years ago)
- get dressed (sweater is too tight, change into gut-camo sweater)
- make sure I have all of burrito's paperwork (I did! I did!)

I aimed to leave the house at 745 - ended up really leaving at 805. Best-laid plans...and such. So, we get there, say good morning, director puts us in the computer so I can check him in, and head down to the infant room. The woman there is waaaaay too chipper for before 10am, but I guess you have to be around babies.

Drop the diaper bag, drop the bottles (with insanely detailed labels; 5.5oz, 5oz, 4.75oz, and 4oz bottles), fill out his am paperwork (last feeding, nap, diaper change), and unpack him, who by this time is fussing about being restrained for so long without moving. He has car seat issues.

When they asked if he was fussing for a reason, I said he's probably hungry, so they heated up one of the bottles for him - which he wouldn't take at that point, because everything else in the room was just too interesting, lol. You'd think he's never been outside my house before.

I said goodbye about 5 times, and then had to get my butt to work. I'm not sure if I can explain correctly, but I almost feel as if I'm just borrowing someone else's baby, and I'll either have to give him back or they'll come pick him up inevitably. Of course that's just right now, as two days ago I was marveling that I have a son and he's mine for the rest of our lives. It's such an odd thing. I'm not sure how people adjust to this.

One thing is certain: I miss him tons.

omg, daycare.

formerly-pg-girl-at-work is talking about it. I hadn't even thought about it yet.

I am so not ready to have an outside baby in a couple months. I feel like I *just* started showing, therefore just became pregnant. This is somewhat terrifying.

Among my other fears:

♪ um, finding and paying for daycare?
♫ not being able to have the birth I want and going in for a c/s
♪ not bonding with my baby RIGHT NOW
♫ not being able to do the things I dreamed of doing back when I was going to be a SAHM
♪ getting the house ready for a small carbon-based lifeform
♫ how anything and everything I'm doing now and will do up until taking small fry home will affect him.

Goodness, if it was only small things...like, what crib do I pick? Or, how do I babyproof the house? Or, what are the best blankets to use for swaddling? Gar.

How did I ever think I could actually be ready for something so small, yet so damn HUGE?!?!

The thing about the bonding:
In pregyoga yesterday (thanks for the new name for it, bff), the teacher was talking about bonding with your baby now and talking to your baby. I've seen my friends with their kids, and they are not shy - they will sing to them, talk to them, etc. Well I'm a singer, but I've always been shy. I thought when I have kids, I'll make a list of songs I want to sing to them, and sing to them all the time, like my mom did for me.
However, I find myself not remembering anything but The Rainbow Connection and Baby Mine from Dumbo. If I can't sing to this kid now, in the shower, when I'm home BY MYSELF, how am I going to be when he comes, and I'm trying to rock him to sleep in my guest room nicely decorated nursery?

The thing about the affecting:
I keep hearing stories about how people's births affect them for the rest of their lives, especially when they themselves are parents. I don't think I have to worry about the when-said-child-gives-birth-themselves thing, unless my little trooper decides to become a troopette. 
But, I do wonder how my relationship now and my reaction to being pregnant will affect my child? It was an unplanned pregnancy, but that doesn't mean I love my child any less...does it? I mean, I worry about this a lot: will I love my child enough to prove that I want him? Will I be able to make up for him being a surprise? Do I even need to?
Will I be able to provide him with a wonderful birth so that I have one less thing to feel guilty about? If I'm terrified going into labor, will it affect him? If I have to have a c/s, will my disappointment affect him, or me after the fact?
This dilemma kind of reminds me of my favorite scene from Contact, where Matthew McHippie is talking about the existence of God to Jodie Foster: "Did you love your dad?" Jodie (taken aback): "yes!" McHippie: "Prove it."
I almost feel that since small fry was a surprise, I will now have to prove that I love him even more. Has anyone else out there in cyberspace ever felt this way? (Bueller? Bueller?)

Well I guess that's all for now, I think small fry is telling me he's hungry by head-butting my nethers. Next time: help me vote on bedding! (I know, an especially serious topic.)