The pediatritian knows I'm a new mom. She didn't have to ask if Rachel had a sibling at home. Maybe it was the question "Are all babies legs crooked like hers?", or perhaps "Is it normal for her to have that many folds on her neck?". Or perhaps the urgent statement "Please look at this rash on the back of her head, is she sick?" only to be told it's a birthmark. Or it could be the mere volume of questions I was asking. Or perhaps the fact that I called the nurse more than my fair share of times asking questions.
They probably think I'm bad, but they should see her father. When he changed her diaper the first time he put it on BACKWARDS. (I'm not kidding). I'm happy to say he is getting the hang of it now, though.
Rachel had acid reflux really bad. The pediatritian gave her Zantac in liquid form, which didn't work at all. Finally, after about 10 days I called the nurse (who knows my voice now, btw) because I couldn't stand to see her in pain anymore. They changed her medicine to Prevacid, which is working wonders. (Thank GOD!)
The only problem...Prevacid is not in liquid form, only capsule. So, I was faced with the task of getting a capsule down a 5 week old baby. This is not an easy task. And to make matters worse those pills are EXPENSIVE. So, if I lost some it would cost me.
She is supposed to get half a capsule, so I opened it and spilled the tiny beads from inside the capsule on aluminum foil. I thought I would put it on the foil and separate it into two separate but equal piles with a knife. You can tell I'm not a drug dealer/user simply by the fact I wasn't smart enough to realize that when aluminum foil has little beady things on it and you scrape a knife on it, it krinkles and the beads go shooting across the room. Ok, lost a few beads there.
Plan two. I've seen enough TV to know how the drug users do it. I needed a razorblade and something that doesn't krinkle and shoot things across the room. I opted for the cupboard instead of the foil, and I didn't have a razor so I went for a sharp knife. Getting the beads on the counter was fun. Beads roll. I think I probably should have learned that in Kindergarten. I must have been absent that day. I lost a few beads here, too.
Then once I lassoed them back in a pile and separated them into two piles I had to get them into a container. I didn't think about that before the counter idea. I held a little plastic cup at the end of the counter and brushed them in. One cup for each pile. I lost a few on the floor.
OK, now how do I get them into the baby's mouth? A syringe with milk sounds logical. Except the beads didn't want to suck into the syringe very well. I managed to get them sucked in and milk, too. I went to squirt it in her mouth. The beads stuck to the bottom of the plunger. The milk went nicely into the baby's mouth. Sigh. I lost all of the beads.
OK, so that didn't work. On to another dose. How about I stick a few of the beads to my breast and shove it in her mouth for breastfeeding. Ingenious you say? Well, I thought so. Until I realized that Prevacid beads stick to boobs better than they stick to tounges. When she unlatched they were still there, firmly attached to my breast.
I scraped them off my breast and put them back into the container, which wasn't an easy task because, as we learned, wet Prevacid beads stick to everything. Babies chins, fingers, clothing, the chair.
Finally, a revelation. If it sticks to everything, it must stick to fingers! I pressed my finger in the pile of beads and, wallah! They stuck. I waited for her to open her mouth (She'll probably get smart and never yawn again), stuck my finger in there, wiped it on her tounge, and they stayed! Then, I put my breast in for her to drink. Obviously I'm not a fast learner. THey stuck to my breast. I scraped them off again.
We repeated the process, this time with a BOTTLE of breastmilk, and, luckily, Prevacid beads do not stick to plastic nipples, only real ones. She would drool a bit and I had to scrape them off her cheek, folds of her neck, her shirt, and put them back in, but I think I got most of them.
Lucky us, we get to do this every night.