Two weeks ago, Annabel came down with a cold. Somehow, I resisted the urge to hose her down with hand sanitizer, although we did actively try to keep her from like, sneezing and hacking all over James. Unsurprisingly, James still got sick and somehow, I did not jump off a bridge. This is germaphobe progress, my friends.
The good news is that the version of the cold James got appears to be relatively mild. He’s extremely congested in his sinuses, but it’s all stayed there. Annabel’s congestion moved into her chest, and she still has a horrendous cough (although she isn’t acting any worse for wear). I’m keeping my fingers crossed that James’ cold stays in his head, because babies with breathing/chest issues = my personal nightmare.
I also caught the cold, so on top of the double breast infection I had, it’s been a long two weeks for me. Mike seems to have dodged the germy bullet, which is good because James and I both came down with the cold at the same time, and I was so run down I was ready to throw in the towel. I’m still falling asleep sitting up, but at least I can breathe out of one side of my nose! It’s the little things.
If we go a few more days without James coughing or running a fever, I will feel like we survived his first illness. You can tell me until you’re blue in the face that it’s good for babies to get sick, but it doesn’t change how much it freaks me out because of what we’ve been through. Even though I constantly remind myself that Annabel and James were born with healthy, strong bodies, I can’t turn off that irrational part of my brain. But I’m working hard to at least turn down that part’s volume.
The passage of time will also help me ignore my inner irrational germaphobe. As James gets older and bigger, he’ll look as strong as I know he actually is. I can take Annabel’s occasional colds in my stride now, although it took a lot of work to get to that point. Hopefully I’ll be more relaxed with James sooner.