Little Foot has fallen ill…

The inevitable had to take place, yet when it happens, as a parent, I can’t help but blame myself for my poor decision – making… for not being kiasu enough… sighh… As a parent, the most heartache moments is seeing your child cry in pain. It tugs at all your organs and your very soul. I want to cry when I hugged Little Foot and told her it’s alright when inside, I don’t know whether it is. Over and over, I apologised for her plight. Long has been quiet about it, but his face and one liner “it was your choice” said too much. It was my fault…. and he’s disappointed. Trust me, so am I.

When a child is sick, blame games doesn’t work much for her. I have to remind myself, let’s tackle this bug first.

Everyone speaks of how good breastfeeding is for the baby’s immunity and health. So we have been blessed to only have encountered colic and bouts of tummy ache related to her sensitive digestive system. And constipation as we started solid foods.

I’ve kept her mostly at home, rather than run out on a whim, because I know there’s a viral thing going around. Some of the other Dec babies have already caught it on and off. We haven’t managed to get her insurance because we needed to be discharged officially from KKH for her neck issue first. So yes, I have tried to be careful.

So we were completely caught off guard, when after celebrating her 2 bouts of poo on Sunday night, the shit just kept coming on Monday (6 soiled diapers). Tuesday morning was decision – making time again. Wait for PD appt scheduled for afternoon? Or run to another PD in the morning. She had already had 3 soiled diapers times by 10am.  By then, I’ve spent the night asking myself what did I do wrongly and beating myself up over it. Mentally exhausted. In the end, Long decided for me. Just wait for the afternoon appointment.  We killed time by cutting fingernails and playing as I kept staring at the clock.

Eventually, PD’s diagnosis confirmed my nagging suspicion. It’s viral.

So I cancelled on the playdate this Saturday.  I will also have to see if she’s completely recovered for baby Kylie’s Man Yue party next Sunday.

I won’t be playing the blame game anymore. All I ask is that as parents, please always be very kiasu, both for your child’s and other children’s sakes.  I took an assurance that it wasn’t contagious at face value, and my poor baby is paying the price for it. I can’t help but be angry. The old me would have smashed my bedroom in anger and coupled it with my fanciful vocabulary of swear words, but the me now, as a mummy, that’s not my privilege to do so anymore. Tackle the problem and the virus first.  Get angry? No time.

Welcome to motherhood, with all the bells and whistles, kinks and knots.

My only consolation?  Hey, this is her first time fall sick. At 7.5 mths old, it’s quite a decent record considering that Mummy has almost zero immunity. (Oh yes at this point, the virus has also attacked my sinus and respiratory system. Fml.)