My birthday was 2 weeks ago. It was a big one. 30. I thought about blogging on being 30, but the truth is there really isn’t anything exciting about it. I didn’t have any long awaited epiphanies about entering a new decade. I don’t feel old, and I don’t feel like I should miss my 20’s or anything like that. So I decided instead that I’d blog about the joint party I threw for myself and my niece Olivia. Her birthday is just 2 days before mine, and she turned 10 this year. I also wanted to blog about last week, my first Mother’s Day, and how I felt being a new mom. But something came up that stopped me from doing anything productive. Jack got sick. It will be the first of many times, I know, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t scared.
It started on a Saturday night with a slight fever that got higher and higher. I called the Dr in the middle of the night, and she assured us that he’d be worse at night but some Tylenol would bring down the fever. I had already taken Tuesday and Wednesday off work, so Matt was going to take the baby to the Dr on Monday. I felt so guilty going in to work. My baby was fussy and sad, and I was leaving him. After arguing with myself I finally went in, only to turn right around and go back home. I made it back in time for his appointment, and I don’t think I put him down for the rest of the day. Even though the little guy was coughing, feverish, and swollen, he still gave me his sweet smile every now and then.
As much as I hate him being sick, he was still adorable. He would yell and grunt at himself whenever he would cough too much frustrated that he couldn’t stop.
Jack’s fever broke Tuesday and he had no symptoms Wednesday, but by Thursday night he was feverish again. On Sunday morning, Mother’s Day, he broke out in a rash all over his body, and we found out that he had roseola, a very common virus in babies. My Mister Man is back to his healthy self. I hope he stays that way for a while!
