The sick world we live in

Last week a cold started brewing in my system.  I refused to be kept down, so I packed my body full of Vitamin C and started chugging down broths and fruits to send this sickness on its way.  But as a nursing mother, there's only so much you can do to protect your poor, helpless babe from inevitably contracting your gunk.  Sure enough, a few days later, the snot invaded his nose and his smiles transformed into a quivering bottom lip with the saddest, meekest cough.

Since Abishai is only 2 months old, I was hesitant to give him any medication so I took to my most trusted source of information--- Facebook moms.  Within seconds of posting that I had a sick baby, I had two moms already telling me their fail-proof remedies including hot steamy bathrooms, inclined bassinets, and a trusty humidifier.  Yet, there was one recommendation that stood out above all the others... the NoseFrida.

I immediately googled "NoseFrida" and watched a video on the website demonstrating its purpose.  I gasped.

It's a very simple contraption-- one long tube attached to a plastic cylinder that houses a filter.  The tip of the cylinder is angled for easy nasal passage placement, while the opposite end of the tubing can be placed in another individuals mouth.  The illustration on the box says it all. 

One after the other, my Facebook mom friends started raving about their success rate.  Nose aspirators were a thing of the past and an inefficient method of relieving baby mucus at that.  NoseFrida is the revolutionary new method and every mom is buying into it.

The next day, Matt headed to Whole Foods to buy this miracle mucus tool. Yet, I was still somewhat skeptical and, frankly, the thought made me sick to my stomach.  I kept at my little baby aspirator bulb for a few more days.  It didn't last long till the sadness and obvious congestion in Abe's nostrils kept him from even wanting to eat properly.  There it was.  Sitting on his dresser waiting to be used.  Waiting for someone to be brave enough to suck his snot.

Alas, with my own congestion to deal with, I couldn't properly suck and breathe at the same time.  Daddy to the rescue.  Matt had adamantly opposed being the NoseFrida sucker (pun intended), but when I couldn't do it he took one look at our ailing son, heard his sad whimper as he snorted snot to try and breathe, looked at the NoseFrida and sighed with a "Okay, hand him to me".

The process took less than a minute and Abishai was immediately relieved.  Not the tiniest sound of snot in his nose and he smiled before turning to nurse again.  Hip Hip Hooray!

I can't say I didn't gag and turn my head while Matt did the first nostril.  Sure, I could get mustard yellow, corn soup-like poop all over me without flinching, but snot sucking was obviously not in my repertoire of skills.  Matt, on the other hand, approached it with such valor- as if it was his duty. 

Needless to say, I'm now a believer in the NoseFrida.  Yes it's gross, but you'll go to any efforts to help your kid breathe.  Even if that means doing the sucking yourself.  Which brings me to my next story...

I told my mom of our NoseFrida experience this morning thinking I was going to enlighten her with the wonders of this fancy new baby product.  Her response: "Oh, your daddy did that to you when you were a baby".  She proceeded to tell me that back in the day (because it was sooo long ago since I was an infant- haha) before there were special tubes to suck baby snot, my dad placed his mouth onto my tiny baby nostrils and literally sucked my snot out of my nose. *I just gagged again*

"I couldn't do it and nothing else would work," my mom said, "so your daddy just sucked the snot and spit it out.  It worked.  Must be a daddy thing".  Must be.

I asked my dad about his experience and he acted like it was just another thing you do when you have a baby-- like changing a diaper.  "That's what you do," he said, as he was holding Abishai.  He said it with such confidence that I wouldn't doubt he'd do the same with his grandson. 

There are many traits that make up an awesome dad, but rarely do you ever hear that snot sucker is one of them.  It should be.  You can't argue that having the wherewithal to suck your baby's snot makes you a bit of a hero parent.  Abishai is blessed to have a pretty awesome dad and a fun grandpa as well.

My dad just celebrated his 74th birthday on Thursday and here he is happily holding his sick grandson.  Abishai is truly happy to be hanging with him.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!

Me? Sick? Nah!

Um... I need you to look at something for me

I'm now 32 weeks along (2 months left) and I'm trying to milk as much out of this pregnancy as possible.  I've hit the crest of my bell curve, but I'm trying my best to enjoy it as much as possible till the inevitable angry, uncomfortable, irritable beast of a woman inside me emerges in my last few weeks. 

Now let me preface this with the fact that I'm uber thankful that I didn't have to deal with never-ending nausea or extreme weight gain.  For the most part, I've been having a pretty easy pregnancy and I'm thankful that my body hasn't become so disfigured that I look like the Michelin Man version of my pre-pregnancy self.

As to be expected, my tiny frame is being stretched, pulled, and pushed in all different directions and I have a basketball sized belly weighing down on all the organs below my waist.  I can’t see anything below the top of my belly curve-- which makes for investigating aches, pains, and "discomforts" quite difficult.  I like to call these discomforts “silent predators”… you can’t seem them, but boy do you feel them.

Which brings me to my story....

Warning: The following tale is not for the faint of heart. I am documenting it for my own purposes-- mainly so that in the future, when I think I'm having a bad day, I can come back and read this and think "yeah your day is not THAT bad".  You know what I mean.  Glad we're on the same page.

Thankfully, I am blessed with a husband that has quite the sense of humor.  Well, that and he's not the squeamish type-- unless you're a baby and you barf in his mouth or your dog sneezes in his face (just throwing out random scenarios that would be an exception).  

So it had been a few days and I had been feeling an interesting "discomfort" in an area that was not easily reachable and definitely unseen (especially by me).  This unpleasantness then manifested itself into an insatiable itch.  I'm talking about an itch so bad you plead for death.   Being the classy woman that I am, I obviously rubbed that area raw... to the point that I'm sure it will never look the same again.  

This is where Matt comes in.  Poor Matt.  I'd been awake all night-- going to town on eliminating the itch, so I was wide awake by the time his 5am alarm went off.  He turns off his alarm and a voice from the darkness says this:

"Um... I need you to look at something for me".  That's never a good sign. 

Matt dutifully examines me and responds so matter-of-factly with

"Well, it looks like…(thoughtful pause as he waits for the right description to grace his lips)… the rudder of a ship".

I'm no expert here, but I have no use for a rudder.  The image that comes to mind is that of kneading bread dough and after a while it doubles in size.  Except, I never intended to bake loaves with my butt.

You should have seen the face on the Target cashier that watched me unload my "ship-rudder elminating" purchases onto the conveyer belt.  I threw some gum and snacks on there as well just to "lighten the mood".  I can't be the first person who has ever bought Prep-H and Chex mix together. At least now I know how to build the perfect relief package for any other pregnant woman that's experiencing these foes.

Rudder Elimination Kit

To top it all off, I ended up also breaking out into a full body food allergy rash from something I ate on Father's Day.  After being sent to 2 different doctors and a perinatologist they concluded that I can't eat shrimp, strawberries, or sesame seeds for the rest of the pregnancy.  It's too bad, I was planning a shrimp and sesame seed oil stir fry, garnished with strawberries. OR... it could just be heat rash.  We're currently testing out theories.