I used to think sleep deprivation was the toughest part of motherhood, until Milla got sick.
It was just your common cold this time around, but when your innocent little peanut is crying with pleading eyes to help make her feel better…and she can’t even utter one word to explain what the exact problem is…it is wholeheartedly crushing!
We took a trip to the doctor as she had a nasty temperature of 39.6 to go with her attractive running nose and red, watering eyes. Dr Mac’s good news was that she didn’t need antibiotics. But he also informed me of the bad news – which seemed to carry on for some time.
According to him, babies get sick around every 4-6 weeks, lasting about 2 weeks. So I was to expect only a few weeks here and there of a healthy, happy baby.
“That’s a bit rough isn’t it?” I replied, wide-eyed.
He tried to take the stunned mullet look of my face by adding: “Actually, it’s great because now that she’s had this bug, she won’t get it again. And, at least you now know her immune system’s working well.”
“Yeah, I guess.” It wasn’t the pick-me-up response I was looking for.
Hopeful, I asked: “So, just how many of these ‘bugs’ are out there?”
And his answer: “Oh hundreds! New ones cropping up all the time too.”
After hearing that, I now have a better understanding of why some mothers wrap their children up in cotton wool. I understand it – but that’s not the approach for me or my germ ridden baby. I was a tomboy, I made mud pies in the sandpit (and ate them), I climbed trees and fell and…I survived. And as agonising as it is having a sick baby, I am sure that with lots of hugs, kisses and plenty of Kleenex and Dettol, Milla will survive too.

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