The finale of Month Two was highlighted by our first real scare as parents (other than when we were walking out of the hospital, fresh new baby in tow, and the nurses were like "alright kids, you're on your own now" and I realized I no longer would have daily room service and someone to tell me immediately if the snorting sound my baby was making was normal). Sunnie had her two-month check-up, during which she received a handful of vaccinations. I didn't know that the vaccinations were happening at that appointment so I wasn't prepared with a lifetime supply of internet literature to help me decide if we should go through with it or not, so I made a quick decision to trust the doctor, who had gone to medical school, unlike myself. Any-who, so the doctor tells me that babies will either mega-sleep or mega-freak after the vaccinations. She tells me what to do if the babe gets a fever and blah blah and blah. I'm obviously not able to listen because Sunnie is being a little fussy at this point. So after the shots, we head home with a mega-sleeping Sunnie. Good. Because that means I didn't have to remember the other stuff the doctor told us.
Rookie mistake, folks. We get home and Sunnie is totally out. A few hours pass and I'm gettin' things done around the house wasting my life away looking at Grumpy Cat memes or something equally worthless. Then out of nowhere, Sunnie lets out this blood-curdling cry. Naturally, I assume David Bowie has stolen my child whilst wearing the most incredible spandex pants imaginable. I immediately jump up with the speed of a thousand cheetahs and pick her up. I run down the checklist- poops? no. hangry? no. bored? no. bitten by spider, snake, rabid squirrel, or scorpion (just some of my maternal fears)? no. She is just crying and crying and her little face is so red and this goes on and on for at least an hour straight.
So I'm bouncing her and rocking her and whispering "mommy's here" and all other things that you do when you are confused and worried about your new baby. She's never cried that way before so at this point my heart is racing a wee bit. So I whip out the thermometer and wedge it into her little baby armpit, which isn't easy because she's sort of flailing about. So with one hand I check her temperature, with the other I'm reading the instructions, and by use of magic I'm still holding and rocking her. Her temperature is just barely into the fever range, so naturally, I have a panic attack and think that I have to go to the hospital immediately. After calling Jordan in hysterics and once he is home, I rush to CVS, calling every eight seconds to ensure that he hasn't fallen down the stairs with Sunnie (another fear of mine) and that she is still breathing. Once at CVS, I literally look like I've gone mad- pacing the floor and desperately searching for infant Tylenol (which apparently is only sold as the generic version since it basically was the worst and then double the worst because it made me search desperately for it until asking the sales clerk who informs me that they no longer sell it because it's the worst).
So frantically, I race home- like as if I've got to stop a bomb from detonating or dismantle a nuclear weapon that's going to end the existence of mankind or a Chipotle just opened up in town- because that's how maternal instincts work. To make this already long story short- We administer the generic tylenol, Sunnie goes to sleep, and I quietly check her temperature throughout the night, which of course, I don't sleep during. Sunnie was fine, but it was terrible. I was traumatized. Folks, pay attention to your doctor.
Since becoming a parent, a minute hasn't gone by without imagining all possible things that could happen to Sunnie. When I'm in the shower, driving, sleeping, what have you, I am thinking to myself "is she okay", "is the bookshelf going to fall on her if there is a sudden earthquake", you know- all the typical worries of a parent. The exhaustions of a new parent are not the lack of sleep and the overabundance of diaper changes- it is the worrying.
And not just because human babies are one of the very few creatures who are completely dependent upon their parents once they are born. But you see, I think I will worry always. Even when she is married and has her own babies. I will worry. And I'm okay with it, because if it means that it will help me to keep her safe in this world, that's really all that matters.
So by two months new on this big blue planet, Sunnie
- Smiles all the time. She's a happy kid.
- Is a fairly decent sleeper. She consistently sleeps until four-thirty or so in the morning, so I at least have that block of time that I know I'll get some rest.
- Has kicked acid reflux to the curb. Still spits up a bunch though.
- Has been to the zoo. Slept the whole time.
- Is happiest in the mornings, right after the first diaper change.
- Loves all things that hang above her- fans, lights, dangling sheep, what have you.
- Always wants to look around. Doesn't wanna miss a beat.
- Still loves for Paul McCartney to sing to her. I'm just going to assume she always will.
- Goes by the aliases Sundrop, Sunnie Bug, Sun, Baby Sunnie, Little Jordie, and Baby Mouse Ears (She has inherited her father's childhood set of ears)
- Has grown back some of the front of her hair. Has lost some of the back. Still has her alfafa spike.
- Is a guaranteed blue-eyed baby
- Isn't the swaddlin' type. She's more into the starfish. All extremities stretched out.
- Enjoys bath time
We still have an occasional foot-into-poop-dipey mishap, and I never know what day it is, but we're starting to "figure it out".
