The cold is still here. Squiggle seemed like she was getting better, then she got noticeably worse. On Thursday we took her to the doctor. She confirmed that it was probably a cold, but to bring her back in if the cough didn't clear up in a week. I asked about Wriggly; what symptoms I should bring him in for. She said to bring him in if his congestion got so bad it interfered with his drinking.
The weekend was rough. Squiggle has been more difficult than usual and I feel so bad for her. Her sleep is all over the place. She is sleeping more than usual, but at odd times. Staying up with her at 2 am makes the next day with Wriggly exhausting. I thank God that Wriggly, who usually needs to be held at night, has slept through being put down so I can care for his sister.
The bad news is that Wriggly and I have both fallen ill. My illness is just inconvenient, but I am very concerned about my baby. He is only two months old. I guess this is proof that breastfed babies can still get sick. Hearing his coughing fits and his chest rattle when he breathes is worrisome. I am afraid he will choke on his phlegm. It's terrifying.
We have been sleeping in Grandma's room. (She cleverly planned a trip to visit her other grandchildren before things got bad here.) It is smaller and the humidifier works better in there. It also cuts down on the disturbances to Daddy. He hasn't gotten bad yet, and I'd like to keep it that way.
Last night I stayed up with him until 3 or so in the morning. I was prepared to stay up all night holding him, but when his breathing sounded better I decided to sleep. I figured that any change in his breathing would wake me and I knew I'd need the rest.
I'm praying that my children get better very soon. Worrying about them is much worse than being sick myself.