My poor little dude has a nose full of boogers and is coughing like a timeworn smoker and I spent three hours at a walk in clinic on Saturday to find out that all he has is a cold.

Sitting around waiting for any length of time with a baby is not fun, but the first hour went by pleasantly enough while Nate wooed the ladies with cheesy one liners like goo and gaa. The second hour was spent cuddling and pacing back and forth with a baby whose throat was so sore he coughed until he puked, and then the third hour I spent trying to save my sanity by peering into the drawers of the waiting room desk and contemplating stealing some rubber gloves because they come in really handy to pick up dog shit. I took the moral high road though and settled on three moisturizing tissues which I promptly hid in my pocket for later use.

The doctor that examined Nate is one that I have seen on occasion when my regular GP is away, and she totally does not support breastfeeding. She suggested putting him on sugar water if he gets any worse because it isn’t as thick as breast milk, and when I suggested that I could always pump and dilute my milk, her response was – wait for it – “Well, I wouldn’t want more trouble for mom.”

I’m not sure how to put this delicately, but if I quit breastfeeding cold turkey, my breasts would become iron-solid lumps of flesh whose rugged strength could outperform Kevlar. Just give them four hours of downtime and diggity dam, I’ll have grown my own bullet proof chest.

Although Nate only has a cold, it still breaks my heart to see him so uncomfortable. One of the most comforting things in the world to him, his pacifier, is a mountainous impossibility because he can barely breathe through his nose, and breastfeeding, although going OK, requires an initial preparation of nasal passage opening saline drops and occasionally some time spent in a steamy bathroom to loosen up all the pasty mucous lodged in his nose and throat before he is able to breathe well enough to put him on my breast.

We go back to the doctors today, and thankfully I’ll be seeing my regular GP who doesn’t seem to have a complex with breastfeeding. So far, our regular temperature readings indicate that he doesn’t have a temperature, which is promising that he also doesn't have the flu, and I’m keeping my fingers crossed that this stuffy nose and sore throat is the worst of it.

Labels: Baby Nate