You were so sick this day. I got a text from J on my way down to visit you that weekend – April 2, 2011 actually – that you were not feeling well. When we got there you had a fever, a runny nose and every time you coughed, it sounded like your lungs were going to come up. Anywhere you went that day, the humidifier followed (as you can see). Both J and E alternated being on the phone with the doctor’s office and the pharmacy until they finally got something called in for you and E went to pick it up. This picture is one of the many times you passed out that day.
What I remember most from this particular sick day was that I got to rock you to sleep. You would get fussy and we’d know it was a sign you were tired – thanks to being really sick, you hadn’t slept much through the night. So a couple of times when that happened, I took you into your room, wrapped you in a blanket and sat in the rocking chair in the corner of the room and just rocked you until you zonked out. You didn’t stay asleep too long – maybe 30 minutes each time. You’d get really hot and start sweating your fever out and wake yourself up. And even though I hated that you were sick, I was glad I got to be of some comfort to you.
I never got the “rocking you to sleep in the middle of the night” experience. Of course, that particular experience is accompanied by being woken up in the middle of the night in the first place which I’m sure isn’t so pleasant, but I still wanted to do it. Pop-pop 3 always told me that he loved getting up with me in the middle of the night when I was a baby. Alone time, just the two of us. Making me feel comfortable and safe and loved enough that I would be lulled back into sleep. It always seemed like such a beautiful bonding time and I’d always wanted to have it with you. Any time I stayed the weekend, The B’s would always let me put you to bed or do your late night feeding, and I loved it. I never got to use the rocking chair until this day though. The sickness was no fun, but I’ll take any opportunity I can to hold you while you’re still small enough. That certainly hasn’t changed.
Actually, you were quite the trouper that day. A couple of naps, a dose of medicine and you were ready to play! This was right after you’d gotten the hang of crawling, so you were all over the place. You did what I like to call “the army crawl” – you used your elbows and your feet to push yourself forward, no knee action whatsoever. Though I found out later that the “army crawl” is actually rather popular amongst babies learning to crawl, it was the first time I’d ever seen any baby do that. I thought it was hilarious. I got on the floor and army crawled with you. We played your toys. Aside from the bright red nose and the horrible coughs, you couldn’t even tell you were sick.
Of course, you’ve gotten sick since then. I’ve seen you on occasion with a cold or a runny nose, and when you’re sick and I’m not there, J will text me with updates on how you’re doing. I always tell her to give you kisses from me and I have no doubt that she does it. But that day was my first Little Man Sick Day experience. I can’t say I’m a huge fan. Well, aside from getting to take care of you, of course. But I know you’d rather get better, and I want what you want. Because I love you, in sickness and in health.
But for future reference, I’ll rock you to sleep any day you want me to, no matter how big you get.
Letters to Little Man 
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