Little Miss Onesie

Gimme a break. That's so cute! I didn't get to dress her in it -- one of the nurses did -- but she picked the prettiest one. I think Miss P likes it, too. She was totally showing off, with her little pinkness. And you know, I was worried the preemie onesies would be huge, but this one fits her just fine. Awesome.

So the yeast infection stubbornly refuses to leave Penn's body, despite the fact that she appears healthy and is breathing entirely on her own. It's weird to think that a yeast infection can cause so much hassle, but my BIL the doctor says it can go hog-wild in a baby's body, blossoming around the heart or the eyes and causing all kinds of havoc. Plus: blossoming. how gross is that? Anyway, it's not the kind of yeast infection you or I get, making us want to sit on a hairbrush and bathe in yogurt. It's in her blood, and I guess it's hanging on longer than it's supposed to, which is unusual (I hate when things are unusual). She's now on 4 medications, 2 for the strep/meningitis, 2 for this fungus, and I have a meeting with my "team" tomorrow to talk about her care so far and what happens next.

The fourth medication means that she has to have 2 IVs going into her, and she's a tough kid to get an IV into (which is crazy, because my one talent is having bulgy veins that are easy to stick -- she couldn't inherit that?!). When I got there, they had already tried 3 times to get an IV into her and were about to try a fourth time when I told them (nicely) to fuck off, she'd had enough. I guess it's a little complicated because they can't have the IV nutrition going in at hte same time as the medicine, but the nurse that came on at 6pm found a vein with no problem apparently, and so now she has 2 IVs anyway. I guess some nurses are better at finding baby veins, and others are better at TORTURING MY CHILD.

Actually, the real torture is that she still can't eat. She's not starving -- she's gaining weight, one of her IVs is literally full of fat (don't tell my mom!). But she can't have anything going into her stomach. Which means I still can't breastfeed her. Which is like not breathing. It's horrible. She wants it (rooting and opening her mouth whenever I come near), I want it (leaking like a crazy woman when I get in her radius), my milk is ready to go on strike, we all need to go forward here... and the stupid effing yeast just won't leave us alone. Gah! It's enough to make you switch to matzo.

I have to remember to call my doctor to ask when exactly I had that yeast infection when I was pregnant (the kind that makes you want to sit on a brush). The nurse practitioner said it wouldn't change the course of treatment, but more information might help them figure out why it's overstaying its welcome. So weird.

Anyway. Back to boobs. I bought another box of nursing pads, and guess what? The cases come 25 to a box. That's right. 25. As in, an odd number. Why wouldn't they have them in an even number? Are there that many people who either have only one breast, or only one leaky breast? Enough to outclass the women with two? I thought it was so weird, i emailed Natracare. (No reply. I'm sure they're stunned at my idiocy.) My friend Suz says it's like hot dogs and buns -- they want to get you into a vicous cycle of having to buy box after box to try to even out your supply.

It's as good a theory as any.

Our pal Victoria -- free doula! -- stopped by today to make Penelope hit herself on the head. I know, it's ridiculous, but it's not like she has a lot of party tricks of her own. Though man, the kid really comes alive between 6 and 7 pm -- she pees, opens her eyes, and engages for like an hour before falling asleep again. It's funny that she already has daily habits. Tomorrow I'm going to ask if I can give her a sponge bath. And I have that big team meeting -- yikers. Full report tomorow.