I don’t know the first thing about sick babies.  I don’t even know the second thing.  I’m so incredibly unprepared for a sick baby.  I was never sick as a baby or a kid.  My mom never once had to take me to the doctor because I was sick.  I got your standard colds, but nothing major.  Harry was the same way.  He was never really sick as a baby, even when I had him in daycare.  He got a cough that stuck around for a few weeks, but it wasn’t a bad cough at all.  Just one of those annoying, nagging things.  And whenever he did have a cold, I’d dose him up with infant’s tylenol or cold medicine and he’d be OUT.  He’d literally sleep it off.  Even without medicine, that was his M.O.  What’s hard about that?  A girl is liable to start thinking she’s got this motherhood thing down with a kid like that around.

Then, along comes Liam.  At first, I thought he’d be like Harry was.  There were so many similarities between their babyhoods in the beginning.  And then, he got RSV and bronchiolitis.   And then things started to go downhill.  Now, at 9 months of age, I find myself hip-deep in nebulizers, albuterol, Zithromax, ear infections, coughing, wheezing, runny noses, damp tissues, sleepless nights,  and general crabbiness.  On both our parts, to be honest.  I don’t know Thing One about how to process or even deal with all of this.  I’m just taking it a day at a time, calling the doctor when I’m out of ideas, and just following my instincts.

I can’t help, in my weaker moments, but wonder what the future holds.  Is this child due to have asthma the rest of his life?  I wouldn’t be surprised at this point.  What about allergies?  If this child is allergic to peanuts I think we’re going to have a mutiny.  That’s like a good 35% of Harry’s diet right there.  And I do enjoy myself some peanut butter toast from time to time.  Not to mention the candy bars.  WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CANDY BARS??  I shouldn’t put the cart before the horse, but I can’t help it.  Now that I have a sickly child, it seems entirely possible.

Let’s not even talk about how helpless and horrible seeing him sick and suffering makes me feel.  I would do anything to help him, to make him feel better and a good portion of the time there’s not a damn thing I can do.  And he cries, such a pitiful, heartbreaking cry.

This is a true test of motherhood here.  And we’re just getting started here.