What Are Moms For?...

Casey and I had a wonderful morning and afternoon, attending my post-delivery OB-GYN appointment and then visiting Amica to show ourselves off to my co-workers.

But, as it seems to happen on so many recent days, I then received news that put my neuroses in motion. The pediatrician called to let us know that the preliminary results of Casey's belly button discharge culture showed a staph infection... but definitely not MRSA (antibiotic-resistent). The doctor wanted to know how the baby seemed today, because we could guess at which strain she might have and get her started on an antibiotic immediately, which may need to be changed tomorrow when we have the answer - or that we could just wait for the complete results before determining which medication she'd need.

I told Dr. Goldberg that Casey was doing great - she's sleeping and eating, pooping and peeing. And best of all, after seeing the clear discharge yesterday (instead of it being cloudy yellow), she has appeared to leak NO gunk at all since then! (And that definitely makes me think that this thing is clearing itself up!)

The pediatrician agreed that we could wait until tomorrow for the correct prescription, but she warned me to watch for any change in Casey's behavior, adding that a newborn doesn't have to exhibit extreme symptoms, but that simple changes (such as eating less) can indicate a problem.

Doesn't sound too scary, but this hormonal, emotional new mommy let worry grip her. And then when Casey didn't sleep for about four hours straight, being fussy and eating just about every hour - well, I freaked out and cried and entertained worst fears. This wasn't her "normal" pattern, but she's a new baby who changes things up on us almost daily! How are we supposed to know when something isn't right???

On top of my emotional breakdown, I felt guilty for A) always forcing Tee Jay to be the strong parent in our family, and B) worrying about somewhat minor "what ifs" when amazing folks like my sister and brother-in-law exhibit tremendous faith with a child who has congenital heart defects which are much more serious than our baby's infection.

I called my own mother, and she prayed with me over the phone; the kind of calming, peaceful (and imploring for peace) kind of prayer that she often had to speak when I was a neurotic child. It helped a lot, and I am now thinking about one thing in particular that Mom said: that God doesn't give us fear. Fear is not from God. Instead, He gives us strength to make it through tough times, not fear.

So, now that I've unfortunately let my mom start her own worrying about her daughter and granddaughter (but, this is what moms are for, I guess, right??), I will work at pushing my fears aside and will try to muster the strength that I have somewhere within to deal with things as they come.