shhh

I worry that the keys are making too much noise as I type this.  I don’t want to walk on the stairs in case they creak.  I hold my breath when I walk by his door in case my breathing is too loud.  My child is finally sleeping and after the awake marathon he just endured, he needs this.  And so do I.

Taking care of babies can be trying.  But taking care of a sick baby will send a person right to the edge of her sanity, especially after a few days without sleep.   At first it’s heartbreaking, watching the little guy sniffle and sneeze and drip boogers all over himself.  So you hold him and rock him and rub his back and let him cling to you and whine through the night.  If you're lucky, Titanic will be on HBO and it'll be at the part with all the excitement, at the end when the boat is sinking, and this will distract you both as you watch Rose and Jack fight for their lives in the freezing ocean.  You'll sit on the couch in the middle of the night holding your baby in your arms, letting him watch a terrible movie because he likes watching people die, while he drips on your clothes and rubs his sticky hands on your face or in your hair if he wants and it doesn’t matter because he’s sick and you’re his comfort.  But after three long days and sleepless nights and terrible movies, you start wanting more than just for the illness to go away.  You want to seek out and kill the person who knowingly brought disease into your home.

I hate myself for even thinking about my own discomfort when my child is sick, but this week has been exhausting.  After the first day I was a little tired.  On the second day I started hearing phantom babies crying while I was in the shower.  And on the third day my own crying in the shower blocked out the phantom babies and I realized I had to get out of the house for a bit to clear my head.  And what better place than my shrink’s office?  I was just lucky that I had an appointment scheduled for yesterday, and my parents came over in the afternoon to look after the little one.  It helped so much to get away from the crying for a little while, even though I could still hear it in my head while I was out.  But when I returned home, Joey had spiked a fever and it was time to stop fucking around and call the doctor. 

He has an ear infection and a cold.  I’m relieved because I was thinking that it was surely some sort of exotic baby disease I’ve never heard of.  Or tuberculosis.  Perhaps bird flu. But it’s just a cold and he’s sleeping now.  The delightful sleep that only antibiotics and good strong cough medicine can deliver to a sick baby.  And I think I’ll take a nap too because I’m exhausted but my mind is finally at peace.