After six weeks at daycare, Axel's caught his first cold. His nose is in snot-production overdrive. The under-arm temperature taking technique revealed a fever of 100 - 101. I've subjected him to temperature taking a few times a week since his birth - his forehead always feels hot to me - but this time, his belly radiated heat as well. I've been hit by the same cold, but my aching head and sore throat doesn't bother me nearly as much as my poor boy's loud, boogery breathing.
A sad, not so little cough rolls out of him, his cheeks are flushed, and he's doubled up on his naps. Apparently, viruses are the true daytime sleep solution, not blackout shades or white noise or putting him down still a little awake or moving him into his own room. At night, he wakes up with his nose chock-full of snot, gasping and shrieking. I'd yell, too, if I woke up unable to breathe and didn't understand why.
He hates having his nose wiped, and the only thing worse than not being able to breathe while sleeping or nursing is having his nose sprayed with saline and suctioned. I didn't realize how deviously wiggly he'd become until having to break out the bulb syringe again a few times a day. All babies hate the bulb syringe - it's like they tell one another at the hospital to watch out for a little blue plastic device designed to suck out baby souls.
All in all, though, he's relatively cheerful. I've been able to distract him with toys, our pets, or sitting in the shade on the back porch, feeling the breeze and looking at the birds that fly past. He'll get caught up watching something for about fifteen minutes and then he'll yell and fuss, as though he suddenly remembers he's not feeling well and wants to make sure I know: "Look, a bird! How does it make those things flap like that? Oh, hey! Did I tell you I feel like crap? I just remembered. I'm achy and sick! Listen!"
Yes, I know, I want to tell him - you're dripping snot on my breast while you nurse. I remember the part of the La Leche League book that mentions of the super-charged antibody germ-fighting action of breastmilk, but I missed the part where it warns that you'll become a human Kleenex.
