Andrew did get better after Monday’s visit. Yesterday he had no fever. He still woke up every two hours at night to eat, but I thought we were on the road to recovery.
My mom offered to watch him so I could go to work. He wasn’t eating much but she didn’t think he had a fever for most of the day. By the time I got home he had a temp of 104.
Why does my baby keep getting better then sicker every other day? Our regular pedi (who has been out of town) called to discuss the situation for about fifteen minutes. He’s befuddled, too.
We broke his fever pretty easily and now he’s happier and more playful than he’s been all day. He even “danced” for the first time. I’m staying home and mom’s staying, too, to keep an eye on him. If he has a fever at all we’re heading back to the doctor’s office.
Oh, and Mr. Aggie is near death but hasn’t succumbed. I threw a lean cuisine at him a few minutes ago.
I am more exhausted than when Andrew was a newborn. At least then when he slept like crap I could spend they day in a pajama-clad stupor. Going to work SUCKED SUCKED SUUUUUUUUUUCKED.
Oh, wait. Not the end. All the skin-to-skin contact (designed to bring down his fever) plus the hands-free nursing bra I finally acquired seem to have markedly improved my supply. Yippee!