Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Last night in bed, I started scratching my left hand and right arm. Vigorously. I turned on my handy little flashlight app and saw that I indeed had two new bug bites. Mosquitoes? Spiders? I tend to have pretty significant reactions to both.
In any case, I was pretty sure they were mosquito bites - and after a rather lengthy session of scratching, (yes, I know you're not supposed to), I finally fell back asleep.
Cut to a few hours later, when I awoke from a strange dream - and something occurred to me:
Wait a minute... Can the Zika virus be passed through breast milk?
Shit. It probably can. What if I was bitten by an infected mosquito? Crap.
So, I googled, as is my way. I found this article on Kelly Mom, which states the following:
"To date, there are no reports of infants getting Zika virus through breastfeeding.Because of the benefits of breastfeeding, mothers are encouraged to breastfeed even in areas where Zika virus is found.“
Hmm. No reports eh? Well, Zika is relatively new here in the United States and they just discovered/reported that it can be transmitted through blood and semen. It was also just reported today that 279 pregnant women in the U.S. and its territories have the illness. (157 women in the 50 states and 122 in the U.S. territories).
I conferred with John, who basically thinks I'm being insane - and he's probably right. I have a tendency - but the thing is, better safe than sorry!
I'm down to one feeding a day with her - and I think now might be a really fantastic time to just cut it out. She doesn't even seem that interested anyway and derives a great deal of joy from holding a bottle on her own. She gets crazy distracted while breastfeeding - and frankly, I'm kind-of over it.
Our pediatrician said anything past 6 months is bonus territory - and that the 6 months is really for immunity-building purposes and so she's covered, seeing as how she's 7.5 months now.
Part of me can't help but be concerned about her last feeding now.
And part of me can't help but think this is a sign. It's time to cut her off. Nobody seems to know what the deal is with this virus - and I just don't want to take any chances.
I'm sure that some will interpret this as some kind of lame excuse to cut the baby off from the milk bar prematurely - but I can assure you, it's not. I'm paranoid. If something happened to my baby that could've been prevented, I think I'd pretty much want to die.
So, I think this is it. I think she's done.
We will see how it goes.
No really.
Until I had Gypsy, I knew that I could be a bit of an asshole - but I didn't really know to what extent. Now I'm pretty clear on the matter: I'm a total fucking asshole.
Prior to being a mommy, (still getting used to saying that), I had a blog called 'To Kid or Not to Kid' where I spent two years writing about whether or not to have a child. I wrote about lots of stuff - especially the myriad pros and cons of parenthood - but sometimes I'd attack other parents for doing something I thought was truly asinine. I still stand by most of my attacks because some parents just do what can only be considered truly stupid, awful and/or seemingly cruel. Certain parents do deserve a bit of criticism. I'm sure at some point I will too... but I am going to try really hard not to do anything truly worthy of such vilification. But anyway - my point here is that I am an asshole - not for the fairly justifiable critiquing of some truly psychotic parents - but rather the unfair and pretentious judgment of one of my own mommy friends.
As a parent of a near-6 week-old, I now find myself eating humble pie because I devoted an entire blog post to ridiculing a very dear friend for throwing a 6-month birthday party for her child. I thought she was absolutely out of her goddamned mind. I thought she was kidding at first when we got the invite and resented having to go. After all - almost everyone else there was a parent too - and John and I were the odd men out. It wasn't exactly bonding material. Everyone's kids were in tow as well - (it was her child's birthday party after all) so we were kinda bored - and all the more primed to sit in judgment as non-parents wishing there was harsher alcohol on-hand to cushion the blow of our boredom.
Now I finally fucking get it - and I've been thinking about what an asshole I must be for not getting it before. My friend was celebrating the fact that she managed to keep her kid alive for six whole months! As the parent of a newborn who got sick at two weeks and was dragged to the ER in the middle of the night, I totally fucking get it now. Having a newborn is scary as hell. Any kind of sickness for a newborn is earth-shattering. SIDS is pretty much an unspeakable horror. Newborns are a shitshow of constant newness, paranoia and blood-curdling fear.
I am terrified all the time that I will do something wrong - or that Gypsy will somehow find a way to suffocate herself to death in her tiny bare-bones bassinet.
Even though I want to cherish every single second of this adorable infant phase, I am COUNTING THE DAYS until she's six months old. The threat of SIDS will diminish considerably, and I will feel a bit more relaxed if/when she starts rolling over onto her side or stomach when she sleeps. I may even breathe a momentary sigh of relief. Yes, I know that once you're a parent the worry is permanent - but come on - it seems pretty damn apparent that the first six months really are just a nonstop stress fest. Will she suffocate or just stop breathing for no reason whatsoever? Where are the results of the genetic tests they conducted in the hospital? Is she too cold? Too hot? Why won't she stop crying? Is she colicky? Does she hate me already? Should she still be cross-eyed from time-to-time? When should we sleep train her and can we bear it? When is she old enough to take on the subway and do these sound-muffling headphones really work? Is she pooping enough? Has she gained enough weight? Is this nap too long? Too short? It's enough to make anyone an absolute lunatic and want to celebrate hitting that 6-month milestone.
Anyway, I am very lucky in that the friend of the aforementioned 6-month birthday party didn't hold the post against me. Or at least she didn't get so mad that she stopped talking to me. Instead, she behaved as any adult should - especially a parent adult. She informed me that it offended her. I think I apologized - but I'm sure it rang hollow. It didn't matter though - she totally forgave me and hasn't brought it up since... until last week... when she came over to meet Gypsy. I said something, (don't recall what), that made her laugh and say something along the lines of, "So now you get why I threw a 6-month birthday party) - and I said "Yes" pretty damn emphatically. I also apologized - again - only this time, it was significantly more heartfelt.
I am an asshole and I really am so sorry.
XO - you know who you are.
Leigh Hope Fountain
0 Comments
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


Follow Us