I Hate This Part

It’s 1am and I am a wreck. My husband and I have been up and down with our 7 month old baby who, it would seem, has an ear infection. We have tried Motrin, rocking, walking, a warm shower, which worked for awhile, probably more a distraction from the discomfort than relief. She finally fell asleep in my arms, still taking the gaspy breaths we all do after a hard cry, only to wake up just as miserable when I tried to lay her down in our bed. There is nothing like hearing your child keen and wail in pain. I felt like someone wrenched my heart from my chest, threw it to the ground and did a flamenco dance on it until it was a bloody mess. I am spent, my chest is aching from anxiety. I am scheduled to work tomorrow so my husband has taken her and camped upright on the couch, trooper that he is, because she seems to feel better this way. So I am fairly certain tomorrow morning we’ll be taking child #3 on her inaugural trip to urgent care. Ugh, this part never gets any easier.

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