Dear Baby,

It appears I was unfortunately correct, and you have become a little Snarfapottamus (or for the non-native-speakers, a Nubs With A Cold).

I feel so bad for you, both because you’re sick, and also because you have no idea what’s going on – you just know you’re unhappy and, at times, that you can’t even breathe to eat.

It’s not like you know how to blow your nose, so we have to use the dreaded saline drops and the evil Nose Snot Sucker on you. Which make you cry as though I’m torturing you. I basically am if you think about it: I’m slowly dripping water into your nose while you desperately swat me away, which probably makes you think you’re drowning. Then I plug one nostril and try to vacuum sticky snot out of the other, which is slow, uncomfortable, and accompanied by disgusting noises. Doesn’t sound like fun to me either, but it’s all we’ve got when the humidifier isn’t helping. On the bright side, you did manage to snot all over me while I was feeding you, which made breathing a little easier thereafter.

In any case, I’m sorry you’re feeling crappy Little Bug. I’m glad it took 4.5 months (holy cow, you’re 20 weeks old! what?!) for you to get sick for the first time, but I wish it were longer still; making you cry to help you feel better truly makes me feel like a parent. But not in a good way…

Love,
Mommy who wishes she could help in ways that don’t make you terribly unhappy