1 Mother 2 Another

Maddie’s been wrestling with a cold since last Monday, and we spent last week learning all about the varieties of snot, how little a toddler enjoys having her nose wiped, and that fun game of multiple personalities called “I’m Not Sick! I Feel Fine! I Feel Awful! Time To Have A Meltdown!”

I’ve been amazed at how long it’s taken to get out of her system; when my girlfriend Abby told me a week ago that it takes about seven days for a baby’s cold to run its course I remember being shocked, and certain my kid would be ahead of the curve. Alas, ‘twas not so, and the Snot Factory really didn’t shut down until Sunday.

Interlaced with the whole cold issue, though, seems to be a round of teething. Towards the end of last week Maddie became a new kind of cranky, looking for lots of cuddling and snuggles, bursting into tears, and hitting herself on the head. This was different from the playing furiously then stopping and dropping in her tracks to suck her thumb and roll wanly on the floor she’d been doing earlier in the week, and frankly, not nearly as fun.

She spent the whole weekend on an incredibly short fuse, clearly unhappy and needing a lot of pampering. Then Monday it went to a whole different level.

I said earlier that it seems to be a round of teething; I can’t say for sure since we don’t know how she typically handles teething, because my child of thirteen months has no teeth.

Yes, I’ve been thinking she’s been teething for oh, about ten months, so I’m wary of predicting that now. But she spent Monday miserable: she’d melt down over absolutely nothing and simply wail for up to twenty minutes at a time – something she’s not done since the olden colicky days of yore, and a Greatest Hits I wasn’t eager to reprise. Add that to the head hitting and the lack of any sort of nap time (thirty minutes and then up and crying), and I started to worry it was something else – say, an ear infection.

Truthfully, my gut says it’s teething. But I was reluctant to make that call on my own so I checked in with the pediatrician who asked me to come in right away.

Great. An inconsolable kid + a trip to the doctor’s office. That’s just fun on a stick.

One hideous doctor’s visit later – which began with Maddie bursting into tears as soon as she saw the doctor, and ended ten scream-filled minutes later with her hiccupping through an emergency nursing session– and we know she doesn’t have an ear infection. The doctor’s inclined to think it’s teething as well, but is concerned enough to want us to check in with her over the next couple of days.

Here’s the thing about teething – is it really supposed to hurt this much? Is she truly expected to be screaming for a long time over this? We’ve gotten Maddie’s nursing down to three times a day – waking, bedtime, and naptime – and Monday she nursed something like ten times. And usually it’s a sure-fire soother, guaranteed to flip the happy switch in her, but she’d often beg to nurse (which she never does) and then go right back to crying afterwards.

Our doctor said that when babies teeth come in later than usual, they often come in en masse. So it’s possible my daughter’s getting four to eight teeth at once, apparently, and I guess that would distract anyone a bit. I suppose I could look at the good side – we may go through a nightmare time teething, but we may only have to go through it once.

I’m praying it’s really teething and we see some pearly whites pronto so she doesn’t have to go back in for blood tests. I’m also praying for a way to help her get through the next couple days. Obviously the weaning plan is on hold, which of course means that even as I comfort my daughter willingly with a nursing, in the back of my mind a panicky voice is shouting, “This is terrible! Now it’s going to be doubly hard to wean her! She’s getting all these bad habits now that’ll be murder to get rid of!” And then I’m ashamed of myself for worrying about something like that when my daughter needs me.

To be filed under the heading of Things I Would Happily Forget:

Having to pin my screaming, pain-riddled daughter to the table while the doctor cleaned and examined her ears.

Then picking her up and seeing the table is sodden with her tears.

I’m the mommy – the one that can do anything. So why do I feel so helpless?