One of these two is very sick. Can you guess who?
The worst part, by far, about being sick for three weeks is that I have missed out on three weeks of being able to smell the (what I can only assume to be) rapidly disappearing new baby fragrance. Freddie is my last baby, and up until I got sick, I would take every chance to deeply inhale his scent, reveling in the good feelings that come from holding a sweet-smelling, milky-breath baby in my arms.
Baby who probably smells awesome and my useless aquiline nose
On Tuesday, I was officially diagnosed with bronchitis and a sinus infection. My doctor said that 90% of these maladies are viral in nature, so while he prescribed an antibiotic, he asked me not to fill the prescription until Saturday if I still didn’t feel well.
These two acrobats are not conducive to sleep, but they LOVE my bed.
I still don’t feel well. Like, really a lot.
Work baby loves work
I power through the days living on ibuprofen, hot tea, and soup. I hack and cough so hard that I nearly vomit. I have gone through two boxes of tissues in my car alone, and I don’t spend much time in my car. My nostrils are chapped and bleeding. My teeth hurt. My ears are plugged (what did you say?).
Taking my sinus problems to the park
But life goes on, and I can’t take a break. I would love nothing more than to spend an entire day in bed, but I barely take care of my family and work obligations as it is – a day off would put me so far behind. Not to mention the power-nursing baby who is constantly at my side.
My illness hasn’t slowed any of us down.
Instead, we have been to the beach to visit family and friends and we continue to play and exercise and read and live our lives. We have big weekend plans to pick out our pumpkins. The boys are probably so used to mom being sick by now that they don’t even notice.
And, obviously, they’re not starved for attention.
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