I hope that in as little as one year, Tim and I will look back onto this cold November day. The kind of day where the sky is so grey and overcast that you cannot be sure of the time without peeking at a clock. We will look back and congratule each other in that special survivor way. “Can you believe we made it through that teething spell?”
I got her at 2:45 this morning when she awoke, howling that raw cry of hers. I gave her some Motrin and held her, gave her a few sips of water juice and she cried for 30 unstoppable minutes before I put her back down. This morning she was up at 6:00 screaming through the monitor, her cries leaking underneath her bedroom door and seeping through the walls. I went and got her and brought her to the bedroom. There she sat and cried between us until Tim finally got up and gave her some breakfast. She stopped crying long enough to eat 1/2 a pear, a few cheerios and take a few sips of breastmilk before dissolving into tears again.
Yesterday I commented as she ate a few grape quarters “Every grape bit you eat is fuel for another tear.”
None of the tricks are working. No dancing. No music. No mirror. No walking around. No putting her on the floor. No looking out the window. No nothing.
Finally Tim threw a shirt on her, put her shoes on and asked me what else she should wear. He was going for a drive. I said I could come along too, so I put off pumping, kept my glasses on, hair unbrushed, threw on a sweat shirt and found my shoes and off we went with a brief stop at McDonald’s for coffee and breakfast. I got a McGriddle and she ate about 5 bites of the pancake sandwich thing before refusing more. She was quiet for about 30 glorious minutes. Whenever I looked at her she was spaced out, looking despondently around her, leaking from mouth and nose — but quiet. The next 30 minutes we weren’t so lucky. She finally fell asleep about 5 minutes before we got home. It’s amazing how she does that so often!
Tim put her down and thankfully she fell asleep. She has been out for about an hour and a half now. Time enough for me to pump milk that will eventually be poured down the drain, review the internet, write this post, warm up some coffee and bring up laundry from the basement.
I wish there was more we could do for her. She is so miserable. All she wants to do is just sit and cry, and occasionally wipe the tears and snot all over my shirt with her face. This is day two of this — how long can this go on? Yesterday we saw that the left half of her bottom gums were swollen, and this morning we noticed to our horror that the right side of her bottoms gums are puffy now too. This on top of the other top tooth puffiness that was going on Friday.
Really, it’s Tim’s fault because he invoked Murphey’s Law. “Wouldn’t it be great if she got all her teeth at once so we could get it over with?”
We both agreed on our drive to no where that maybe it wasn’t such a great idea after all.