My status

I was thinking the other night about endurance...the kind where you endure not because you are strong but because you have no other choice.

Friday I was a little achy during the day, but after 600 mgs of ibuprofen and a 2-hour nap, I was feeling pretty darn good. So we went to a Halloween party and trick-or-treating with friends. After an hour of walking around outside, carrying Ida, in what to me seemed like subzero weather--in reality I think it was about 60 degrees--I realized I was going to pay for this as the achy feeling slowly returned and worsened. My whole body hurt. When we got home, I said to Matt through a few tears, "This is one of those things where I just have to tell myself it's going to suck and I have to get through it."

I wrapped myself in multiple blankets and went to bed at 8:30. Then, Theo and Ida both woke up all night. I could barely get up to put Ida back in her bed...and when I did I almost fell over from the chills. I took my temperature in the morning...101...and called my OB, who called in a prescription for antibiotics.

That's right. I got mastitis ("my status" according to Dr. Tchabo, if you missed that post), which somehow I avoided with Theo. What is UP with mastitis?? People! It's the worst! Maybe I am being a little bit dramatic, as usual, since I am NOT accustomed to fevers and aches. I am cursed with a healthy constitution...I say cursed because when I do get sick I am not a patient patient. Also, how is it that everything I read says only 1-3% of new moms get it, and yet I keep talking to people who have had it?

Luckily the antibiotics and ibuprofen are working...during the day anyway. And my dear, sweet husband is certainly working, taking care of a whole bunch of floppy dependents (okay, so Theo's not floppy, it's just Ida and me). I'm certainly not working, unless you count the occasional getting up from the couch for another drink of water. Although nursing is a form of work, I suppose.

But anyway, doesn't Theo make a dashing football player? Ida was going to be a football, but the romper and hat I bought before she was born that were to serve as the base of the football costume are still way too big, plus I was out of energy anyway. So she and Matt and I wore BYU shirts instead. Those were our costumes. Perhaps we'll be more elaborate next year.