Sick Little Chick

I didn't intend for it to be so long between posts. I've been preoccupied with finishing Caitrin's scrapbook before her birthday. I finally finished on Tuesday, so then I had some long-neglected household stuff to catch up on. So here I am.

My poor little chicky had her first fever yesterday. I heard her crying before 6 am, which is highly unusual for her. When I went to check on her, I saw she had thrown up during the night and when I picked her up, she was on fire. Sean and I had to learn on the fly how to take a rectal temp. The last time we took Caitrin's temperature, she was just a couple months old and the pacifier thermometer did the trick. Now she won't keep her mouth closed, and since necessity is the mother, we did what we had to do. Alarm bells went off in my head when I saw the reading...102.7.

Since we've been so fortunate as to have made it through her first year without a high fever, I was pretty freaked out and called her pediatrician. Took her in and he said she has a mild virus and should be right as rain by the weekend. I'm to keep her dressed comfortably, give a bland diet for a couple days, and make sure she has plenty of opportunities for quiet time. She's scheduled for her 12-month preventative visit next Monday, and by then she'll be well enough to have her flu shot so that hopefully this won't happen again.

Despite feeling like poo yesterday, my girl really was a trouper. She was still her smiley, happy self and spent the majority of the day playing on the cool living room floor. I let her nurse about 8974632 times since she's not supposed to eat her usual variety of foods. We took a long walk after lunch since it was cool out. She only got inconsolable right before bed. When we went in to get her this morning, we could tell right away that she was feeling much better. She only felt the slightest bit warm to me and played happily till naptime. Now, mind you, she's not napping (and it looks like I've gotta go get her soon) but she's happy up there, singing to herself.

I'm so grateful that it doesn't appear she's severely ill, but I can't help feeling like I failed her. She trusts me, and I let her down. I don't know exactly where I went wrong, but something I did, or neglected to do, caused her to get sick. Ever-present in the back of my mind is the fear of febrile seizures. Depends on whose opinion you subscribe to, but some experts say that babies are at an increased risk if a parent has a seizure disorder, and although Sean's epilepsy does not appear to be genetic, the spectre is still there.

And I'm feeling pretty terrified about the state of the US economy. The collapse of Lehman Brothers and the government bailout of AIG this week have the media whipped into a frenzy. I think that there's a degree to which these folks fail to recognize that God saw all this coming long before it happened and none of it is lost on Him. At the same time, I am absolutely petrified at the way we are on the fast track to socialism, "rolling down hill like a snowball headed for hell" (Merle Haggard, isn't it? Something I know my grandfather listens to). I don't even care so much about the impact of all this on me, but I do not want my children to grow up in Waterworld, you know?

Eh, well, I know some of these folks think we should be chewing our fingernails and freaking out every second, but at least for the moment life goes on. And my baby's first birthday is two days away! In fact, today is the first anniversary of my last day at Medallion, and of the day I went into labor. I've got birthday cake plans to work on and food coloring and fondant to buy. Wish my girl were napping, because I am completely exhausted and need a rest myself. But as long as her temperature is still normal, think we're gonna go to Michael's and engage in a little economic stimulus. More soon.