8 Apr
We had, well, seasonably warm weather for most of the weekend–a nice shift from the 50s we saw last week. Ava and I took the opportunity to plant pansies in the front flower pots. We had these in a full month earlier last year!
This morning, it’s a chilly 40 degrees, and it’s raining! What’s it like where you live today?
7 Apr
I took Olivia back to the doctor for a recheck this afternoon. Her four month check-up was scheduled for next week, so they rolled the two together…then asked us to come back for another recheck next week anyway. Oh well.
Her lungs sound good, and I think her cold is getting a bit better. They’re keeping her on the breathing treatments and another prescription to ensure the lung issues don’t return.
She weighed in at 17 pounds, 8 ounces, exactly what Ava weighed at her nine month check-up. (I’d like to tell you that I knew this off the top of my head, but it was my mom who had it written down.) Olivia was 26.5 inches long–she’s basically off the charts in both cases.
The nurse sent home a little pamphlet about month four–it started with a reminder that we should wait to start solids until six months. I confessed to starting them “a few days ago.”
The nurses agreed that she was still quite cute.
7 Apr
Bec: I’m going to engineer and market baby socks that don’t fall off. I’ll make a million dollars.
Bry: You could call them cankle covers.
6 Apr
In the list of Olivia’s milestones, we can now add “First Trip to the Emergency Room.”
We spent close to five hours there on Saturday afternoon after Olivia’s cold symptoms worsened. She woke up from her nap breathing very rapidly, and I noticed that her hands, feet and that little spot below her bottom lip all had a blue tinge. I touched base with the doctor on call at our family practice, and she instructed us to take her in the ER for evaluation.
Of course, by the time we arrived, she was pink, happy and breathing regularly. They did a quick evaluation when we walked in the door, then we were promptly bumped by a motorcycle accident, a heart attack and–get this–a sword injury. I tried to convince her that we’d be seen faster if she’d pitch a fit in the waiting room, but she insisted on entertaining everyone with gratuitous smiles instead.
She was dressed in blue, and eventually I tired of correcting everyone who said, “Oh what a cute little guy!” The next comment was usually, “How old is he, seven or eight months?” Then, of course, “Wow–that’s a big baby for four months!”
When we did make it back into a room, I found that there were at least two other babies there. It was probably just the blue shirt, but even the nurses would refer to Olivia as if she were a boy. I started to get nervous they were confusing her with one of the other babies, so every time someone would come in, I’d stop them at the door and say, “This is OLIVIA SMITH and we are here for LUNG ISSUES.” And then, “…yes, she’s really only four months old. I know. She’s huge.” It was exhausting.
They ordered a set of chest X-Rays, which showed that she did not have pneumonia, and a test for RSV came back negative. The doctor thought she had a virus that settled into her lungs, and he guessed that mucus had blocked a passageway causing the breathing difficulty. She had obviously resolved it on her own, but a respiratory therapist administered a breathing treatment and tried to suction more mucus from her chest via a catheter. We had the option to stay overnight for observation, but we decided to bring her home and keep an eye on her here.
We’re continuing the breathing treatments with a nebulizer–this will help to keep her airways open and clear. We decided that we should stay up with her to make sure she’s breathing normally, so we’re trading shifts throughout the night.
Olivia remains happy and sweet–aside from a stuffy nose, she seems just fine. She’s sound asleep in her swing, perfectly pink (in blue).
5 Apr
After months of waking up numerous times at night, it seems Olivia is settling into longer sleep cycles. Last night, she went to bed at 9:30 p.m. and didn’t wake up again until 5 a.m.
Two nights ago, she slept a full six hours. (So did I–when I realized I hadn’t woken up since I laid down at 10 p.m., I was in a complete panic. I found her quietly snoozing in her crib, and then I promptly woke her up.) Despite the frantic start, it was the first time in–what, a year?–that I have slept that long. I felt like a new woman.
Let’s celebrate with–what else–a photo of Olivia. Sleeping. With her thumb in her mouth. Can you take just one more photo like this?
I will add, because I know some of you have been curious, Ava’s doing okay in the sleep department, too. Thanks to our outstanding parenting philosophy of an alternating cycle of threats and bribes, she’s falling asleep in her own bed. (When she started preschool a about six weeks ago, we decided to postpone any sleep battles and just put her in bed with us at 8 p.m. The upshot was that we were all getting a lot of sleep. The downside is that we were actually missing out on some daylight.)
So even though she’s falling asleep in her own bed, she is not, however, sleeping through the night. We usually find her in our bed at some point–some nights, it’s 11 p.m., sometimes it’s closer to morning.
Believe it or not, I don’t mind.
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