A real good way to feel like you're an inadequate mom is to take more than five months to find out that your baby isn't just cranky but that he actually doesn't feel well. At the urging of a good friend and a good mom who assured me that it wasn't supposed to be this hard and that something wasn't right, I finally took Gavin to the doctor. It seems he's got a case of reflux and a milk protein allergy.
I started him on an antacid. Not being a big fan of turning to medicine for everything (or anything), I had reached a point where I was willing to give it a try. I also got him going on a special milk allergy formula, which has turned out to be worth it's weight in gold and almost as expensive. It was a glorious day on Friday. I picked up Gavin from Dawn's, and she gleefully reported that we had a whole new boy. He had had a nice day. Finally. I think we both almost did a happy dance in celebration. I also retired my arch nemesis, The Breast Pump, that night with only the slightest shred of guilt that I would no longer be providing my baby with nature's most perfect food. Because if something in my milk was causing him problems, well then, it may have not been so perfect after all. (I suppose I could have altered my diet to work around it...but I had reached my limit on selflessness as far as breastfeeding was concerned. Bad mom? Don't care.)
Gone are the bright red cheeks, and the constant inconsolable crying. I had a great day with Gavin yesterday. He allowed me to shower, have a cup of coffee, and fold laundry all without a single cry, and then we ran errands, and he fell asleep during lunch. When he woke up, he was out of sorts, and I'm just hoping it wasn't a regression. But I suppose if I woke up at The Cheesecake Factory at a table with six ladies, I might feel a little "off" as well.
We are all breathing a cautious sigh of relief around here. It's only been a couple of days, so anything could happen, but the improvement is remarkable. Most importantly, we have a much happier baby who feels good, and also my sanity is slowly returning. Which in turn will make me a much nicer mom. I'm going it alone a lot of the time, so I suppose my sanity is fairly important, too. I always heard that taking care of a baby was really, really hard. I just didn't realize the limit to the difficulty, and after the last day, I almost feel as if life is a little bit normal again, and I might get around to doing all those things I've been saying I'll do. Thank goodness for Dylan, who is the pillar of patience and calmness. Even from afar, he's been able to talk me off the edge several times. We would have never survived without him.
Texting
Ohhhhhh
The tripod sit!
Jolly little fellow in his slippers.
You have food on your head.
In other news, Gavin spent the day with Jess, Kev, and Hazel while I was at work on Thursday. I received a constant stream of photos, which brightened my day. They said that they had fun. I guess I'll believe them! Thank you so much to them for taking care of my hot mess of a baby. It was a great break for everybody!
I didn't get an official OK to share their photos, but Jess and Kev are pretty agreeable folks, so here's some footage of their day with Gavin.
Mmmmm, electric toothbrush feels good on sore gums!
As Jess said, "Admiring the view."
And lastly, a late but very happy birthday to the best husband and dad on the planet! Dylan was working over his birthday, but he had his first, and maybe only, day on the mountain, which more than made up for being away from home. Luckily he always finds old friends no matter where he ends up, and he spent the day on Alta with Eric and Zoe as fresh snow fell on Salt Lake City. I think we'll go out to lunch as a late celebration today. Welcome to Club 32, Big D!
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