these past week has been a wearying and messy venture in baby care. ozzy had contracted a terrible cold and had been so congested that his nose was constantly draining and so backed up that his eyes were swelling, red and tearing. he's had to breathe through his mouth and was flat out miserable. i took him to see the pediatrician because he seemed so bad off, but there was no ear infection and his lungs sounded clear, so we had to ride this out and let him get better on his own. (of course we were doing the usual thing: irrigating nose with saline, suctioning, steam, and doc said i could give 1/4 to 1/2 tsp of benadryl to help dry him up if needed.)
besides the restless nights from heavy congestion, the worst is the inability to feed because of congestion. it's so sad to see your baby unable to feed...it just seems like there's not much a baby can do except eat and sleep and when you take those two experiences and make them miserable...how heartbreaking! and MESSY. yes, did you know it's a freaking mess when breastfeeding a blocked up infant? ozzy would latch on just long enough to initiate let down, then break off to breathe and the second he'd break off, i'd start spraying out streaming jets of milk, like happy leaping fountains of water from a garden sprinkler, only it's not water, it's warm sticky milk, and it's not spraying a garden, it's spraying my baby in his face, all over my clothes and whatever furniture, rug, or person happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
and then i start screaming "oh, my god! ozzy, for goshsakes, milk! miLK! MILK!" in a vain attempt to get him to latch back on. but for whatever reason, the congestion or the crazed sound of my voice as my shirt gets soaked in a milky shower while i'm running back and forth, holding ozzy with one hand and the other hand cupped under a boob trying to catch the errant sprays of milk, looking for some tissues or a dishcloth or SOMETHING absorbent, well, he doesnt immediately latch back on. you'd think i'd learn from it the first one hundred times it happens, but yet, every feed, every day, for the past week, has found me doing the same frenetic dance. doh!
besides the restless nights from heavy congestion, the worst is the inability to feed because of congestion. it's so sad to see your baby unable to feed...it just seems like there's not much a baby can do except eat and sleep and when you take those two experiences and make them miserable...how heartbreaking! and MESSY. yes, did you know it's a freaking mess when breastfeeding a blocked up infant? ozzy would latch on just long enough to initiate let down, then break off to breathe and the second he'd break off, i'd start spraying out streaming jets of milk, like happy leaping fountains of water from a garden sprinkler, only it's not water, it's warm sticky milk, and it's not spraying a garden, it's spraying my baby in his face, all over my clothes and whatever furniture, rug, or person happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
and then i start screaming "oh, my god! ozzy, for goshsakes, milk! miLK! MILK!" in a vain attempt to get him to latch back on. but for whatever reason, the congestion or the crazed sound of my voice as my shirt gets soaked in a milky shower while i'm running back and forth, holding ozzy with one hand and the other hand cupped under a boob trying to catch the errant sprays of milk, looking for some tissues or a dishcloth or SOMETHING absorbent, well, he doesnt immediately latch back on. you'd think i'd learn from it the first one hundred times it happens, but yet, every feed, every day, for the past week, has found me doing the same frenetic dance. doh!
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