Taking Care of Baby Z

It has been almost a week now since Baby Z had his pneumonia.

"Puhnemoniyaa. You have puhnemoniyaa?" I heard them talking to Baby Z.

Baby Z, sitting on the floor, facing them, and they played with the word pneumonia, talking to a rather attentive Baby Z. That was days ago. Today, Baby was listless, refused to eat, nursed only a little bit, and to top it off, I had PMD again.

Alhamdulillah though, the PMD was resolved rather quickly. I have learned to not go at it too much, and just chill (as hubby would say).

By evening, my worry increased, since he had spent the whole day sleeping. I called the doctor, and she said to bring him to the Urgent Care.

"Expect to be there for several hours. They might send him for an X Ray or check him depending on their assessment," she said.

Our problem: we couldn't leave the kids alone at home for several hours.

Hubby told me to go on my own. I panicked inwardly. I hate going anywhere I'm not familiar with on my own especially at night. I told S to come with me. She got ready on the spot. We prayed Maghrib.

By then Baby Z had woken up, and I nursed him. He nursed better than before. H fed him mashed banana. He ate it rather relatively heartily. He even cooed, babbled, smiled, reached out his arm as usual, and my worries dissipated somewhat. Hubby had told the girls, after salat, to sleep with their abaya and hijabs on, because we were all going to go to the ER, drop me off there, leave me there,and pick me up again. In the case that he were to pick me up late in the night he would have to either wake them up or carry them to the van even if they were sleeping. Alhamdulillah, Baby Z's condition improved, and we ditched all plans of going to the hospital. Allahu Akbar!

Lack of sleep was catching up with me by then, and I gave Baby Z to S, and told her to wath him while I slept. Hubby and H went to the masjid for Isha. I napped on the couch in semi darkness. Just before hubby and H came home, S came down, woke me up and said,

"He's a little crybaby," signalling me to take him, as he was starting to fuss.

Groggily, I turned to her, and muttered,

"S, can you change his diaper, please? And then bring him back to me? I'm too tired."

Usually, she balks at changing his dirty diaper. Wet diaper is ok, but dirty diaper, she would refuse. The antibiotic Baby Z is taking, causes diarrhea, and when she unbuttoned his onesie, we clearly saw that his diaper was dirty. I motioned for her to go change him. She did. No complaints. No flinching. Mashaallah!

No wonder the babe loves her. As for me, I might be taking the exam tomorrow after all. All I have to do now is cram for it (yes, despite my philosophical opinions on cramming for an exam).