He's finally asleep. On the couch. Not nursing or attached to me. This seems worthy of news after my long morning. The boy's fever was 101 today, but the cough is worse and very troublesome to him. A friend went out and got me some Chestal, which I think has helped him rest. This is like having a newborn.
And my keyboard froze up just as I tried to log on when I saw this sleep was actually going to stick. Everything, everything I want to do involves typing. I don't want to empty the dishwasher and wake him up, I've finished a novel already today and read a good bit of the paper (some while he was on my back in the Ergo as I finally ate breakfast around 10:40).
I wanted to write about how stupid I feel for even considering that I could someday make it through another pregnancy and postpartum time, to feel like this all the time for a couple of months, to have no control, a ridiculously messy house that two days ago was clean, to never get out of my pajamas. To not even have a sip of water before 10 a.m.
I can't hit restart and magically get my happy, healthy son back this instant (though I do hope soon all of his bugs will flash "not responding" and will just close themselves down, clearing his screen to a new day). And I'm putting the idea of another baby to sleep for the duration of this illness, at least (not that it was on the table for months, anyway). But at least I can hit restart on the Toshiba and find that, possibly infected though it may be, I do get to start over.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
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