Poor Baby

On Sunday, Neil's parents were kind enough to come over and watch Sophie so we could have an afternoon date to go see The Watchmen. We had planned to go out after the movie for dinner, but when we called home to check in on the bean, the report was not good. So home we came. It would have been the first time just Neil and I had been out to dinner since Sophie was born. Sigh. Someday.

I'm not a rush to the doctor type, but a fever, diarrhea, and not eating gets me worried. So Monday morning I called the doctor and scheduled an appointment to take her in for a visit.

An hour later we're sitting in the waiting room. An hour later we're still sitting in the waiting room. An hour later we're finally in the exam room. Waiting. Finally the doctor comes in, does about three minutes worth of examination and says she doesn't know what the problem is. So she sends us down to Radiology to get a chest x-ray to rule out pneumonia. Word to the wise: if you have to take your toddler in for a chest x-ray, make sure you have two people there to hold them down. Oh, and bring ear plugs. Not fun.

After four hours at the doctor, 3 hours and 45 minutes of which were spent in waiting rooms, all the results came back negative. We don't know what she has, but she is still sick. Meaning I can't go to the gym, which surprise, surprise, actually bothers me. But more importantly I still have a sick baby and no idea what to do about it.

So we're not having much fun around these parts. Unless you count changing diapers three times as often and holding an almost constantly fussy baby while pleading with her to please, please eat as fun.

On the bright side, she is being a cuddle fiend and we spent all day yesterday laying in bed watching TV. At least this sick stuff has a few perks.