My sore throat is pretty much gone, which is great, only now I'm congested and sniffly and sneezy. I've always thought one of the most amazing things about breastfeeding is that when I'm sick, my body makes all these extra antibodies to help get me better, and those antibodies go into the milk, so Mason's getting all those extra germ-fighters at no additional cost. Sure, it's at my expense, but I'd gladly be sick all winter if it could keep him healthier.
I successfully kept Mason from getting strep throat, but I guess I couldn't keep him from getting a cold. I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure my baby's sick. He won't allow the sweet potatoes that he loved so much on Thanksgiving Day to get anywhere near his tightly sealed lips. He's sneezy, has a cough, and there are little dried boogies up in his nose no matter how often I pick them out. It just seemed like a little cold though, and until tonight, I wasn't too worried.
But bedtime tonight lasted about two and a half hours. He threw up twice and it seemed like every drop of milk he'd eaten all day came up. On top of that, he was making this horrible gagging sound as if he was choking on his spit or his vomit or something. When I tried to feed him, he moaned and groaned and just seemed so sad and miserable. I didn't know what to do. I don't think I've said a real prayer in years, but the words effortlessly ran through my head as I sat in his bedroom in tears. I can't remember ever being so worried or feeling so helpless.
He doesn't have a temperature and he's finally passed out in my bed.
I think I can breathe now.
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