I'm baaa-ack...

Life is eventful and as a mommie, I feel pretty uncertain of every choice I make. But, usually, at the end of the day, I get a silent reassurance that we are doing just fine. When I look at my little guy slowly drifting into sleep while cuddling his "bwown bearw" book, I know that we are all going to be okay.

But yesterday, we had a long day. After looking forward for months to the visit of a traveling overseer to our congregation, we had to leave early. My poor baby J was having an issue again. The issue is one that we thought had been resolved over a month ago.

Go back 2 1/2 months...
We had tried nearly all natural methods, a few traditional ones, and finally had to mutually agree with our doctor that antibiotics seemed the best route to get this under control rapidly (as it had gone on for several weeks without improvement). He took a regimen of antibiotics and probiotics.We were ecstatic when it worked. The problem cleared up. And he had only a day of nasty antibiotic side effects.

Now to the present...
After napping peacefully as we listened to the well-prepared discourse by the traveling overseer, he woke rather pleasantly. I left the auditorium to change him and found that *sigh* it was back. We took our things, quietly left the auditorium, and proceeded to the emergency room. There, the physician's assistant recommended a straight catheter to retrieve a sterile urine sample for urinalysis and culture. I was happy that she was being so proactive, but secretly in terror that my boy would have to go through that. I quickly asked if I could breastfeed him while they placed the cath. The nurses looked at me like I was crazy. Here I am with a nearly 2 year old about to have a straight cath placed and I ask about nursing him during?!? They were apprehensive, but I stood out of the way, contorted myself as one nurse prepared to place the cath, the other held him down with my husband's assistance. It seemed like forever, but he nursed and occasionally let out a gasp of discomfort. Afterwards, the nurses said that went "surprisingly well". I'm sure they attributed none of it to the many positive results that breastfeeding a child in distress produces. But I do.

And so, while I get strange looks when I mention that I still breastfeed my 23 month old, I'm confident that I have made the right choice for my family. Had I not, he would've been a lot more traumatized and in more pain. I owe this one to our Grand Creator who knows what he is doing!

Learn more about the long-term benefits of breastfeeding.

Kissy Face (The Sequel)

In a previous post, I described baby J's "kiss" routine with all of his bath toys. Tonight, while bathing, he began handing me his toys. First, his rubber duck. "Kiss kiss". I gave his ducky a peck on the bill. Then his tug boat. "Kiss kiss". This time I gave a big smooch only to hear poppy warn, "He just peed in the tub."

No more "kiss kiss" with the bath toys.