Healthy Baby Dance

Okay everybody (and self), everything is fine.  Ruby is fine (although I did have to rush her to the weekend peds clinic on Sunday when she was gasping for air, but that was a bad case of croup, so unrelated to our near-death experience).  I now need to convince myself that danger is not lurking around every corner and move on.  I have been having unsettling flashbacks to the whole event, and I keep thinking about what I would be doing right now if something really awful had happened.

Helping with the whole moving-on process is that Ruby is such a funny little doll.  We've been out and about so much these last few days with back to school stuff, sports for the boys, birthday parties, and she is such a little socialite.  She can be throwing a no-holds barred tantrum in the car, but the minute we get into a crowd, she's all shy smiles and coy glances.  After a few minutes of that, she moves on to walking around, checking out new people, and, of course, looking for snacks.  I will say that Ruby's interest in food has definitely calmed down quite a bit (and this whole low iron finding has made me rethink the compulsive eating in the first place - could it be that she was like pregnant women who eat dirt and other oddities in an effort to get enough iron - pica?).  Now when we're at home she often chews up a bite of something and then chucks it on the ground if it's not tasty enough, so I would say she is your basic American toddler.  In new settings, however, she definitely appeases anxiety by trying to eat.  Or by trying to drink any juicebox within a ten mile radius.  When I had her at the pediatrician with the croup, and she was tossing around ideas of where Ruby might have picked it up, I had a distinct memory of a recent playground party during which I saw Ruby on the make with at least 10 different juiceboxes.  I didn't mention that to the doctor, but I think Ruby and I both knew the score.  But overall I am so happy that she seems to have replaced her food attachment with her family.

On another note, Ruby seems to have kicked out all of her uninvited gastrointestinal guests, and with the extra iron she's taking, we're down to very few diapers over here.  Major plus.  She has actually been pretty healthy in that regard for a while, but people keep asking me how she is doing, so I didn't want people to think that she is still having diarrhea constantly - not a very lovely image.

As Ruby's general health has improved, her hair has been growing like crazy.  When we wash it, the curls hang down to her shoulders - so cute!  I have so many thoughts about the whole hair issue, and I find it interesting that people are so curious about it - as I was.  I will write more on that topic soon, but for now I will just say that I feel like her growing hair is such a good sign of a healthy baby.

So, as you can see, I'm ticking off all of these things to reassure myself that "everything is fine."  Ruby is okay, better than okay, and we're great.  It's just been a long week, and after six months where things happened pretty slowly, a trip to the ER and an acute case of croup within three days of each other was a lot to deal with.  I think we're making up for all of the months she wasn't with us, though, and I've been thinking that nursing a sick little baby is definitely a bonding experience.  Finn was sick all the time when he was a baby, so there were so many nights of worry and trying to comfort him when he was burning up with fever and couldn't breathe.  It was awful, and we were always exhausted, but we also were putting into action the bottomless love we felt for him.  When we heard the first lovely croup cough issue out of Ruby's mouth, we realized that we were going to be in for a few sleepless nights, and Matt's comment was, typically, very patient.  He said he guessed that we owe her a few nights, since we missed so many.  And it was good, because on Sunday night, sleeping on the floor next to Ruby's crib, listening for her to breathe in and out for hours, I realized that we really were "there" with her in ways that I hadn't realized.  All of that stuff about adjusting and her hair and language skills and every other little detail that I've thought about in the last six months are these objective things that I can think and talk about, but now, to me, she is really just my child, and I love that.  That love you have as a parent is so amazing, because you can see certain things about your child - they are good at sports, or introverted or pretty or not as pretty as the others or they struggle with math or can't ever remember where their shoes are or may have to be held back in school, or whatever, but none of it has any impact on how much you love them.  You just do, and all of that other stuff is separate (even though it can sometimes drive you crazy).  So it was good to realize that I just do love Ruby like that now, since when someone plops a 16 month old baby in your arms, the details are what you (or at least I) tend to focus on.  You know you will love this child, but at first she's a little mystery that you're trying to unlock so you can figure out how to love this child and how to make her love you.  Anyway, as with most things, it all happened while I wasn't paying attention to it, so a night or two on the floor or a few hours at the ER is not the highest price to pay for the realization.  And now that I've had it, we can all stay healthy for a while, right?

First meeting, six months ago.

Now, just one of the gang, looking for frogs.