Livy's got RSV, which is scary doctor talk for "a really bad cold". Sadly, she's also got the something else that makes her have a fever and vomit, too. The doctor thinks maybe it's a UTI, which would require baby catheterization to diagnose. So, if she remains fever- and vomit-free for the rest of the day, we call it an anomaly and leave her ladybits alone. If she heats or throws up, though, we've got to go back to the doctor and shed a few tears.
So, Olivia is sick. This is true. But Olivia is also just fine. This is true, too. I've just spent the last half hour reading a blog by a mama whose daughter is profoundly and permanently disabled. Her little lady may never be able to live independently and is delayed in just about every developmental way possible. My heart breaks reading about their story, especially for the mother whose helplessness in the face of her daughter's challenges reads so strongly in some posts. I can't imagine what it must be like to watch your child struggle day after day without being able to help. And I'm really, really lucky that I don't have to. And I'm really grateful that Olivia is healthy and happy despite her snotty nose and sour tummy. And I'm grateful that I know that it's mere luck that separates the mamas whose babies are sick for a week and the mamas whose babies are sick forever.
When you decide to have a child, it is essentially like putting your quarter in a slot machine and pulling the handle. Yes, the odds are weighted more heavily toward general health and happiness, but there's never a guarantee. We lucked out in winning the baby jackpot.
And so, yeah, it sucks cleaning up puked on clothes. But today I'll do it with a grin on my face, because that's such a small chore in the face of all that's possible. And I'll worry over thermometers and uneaten bottles and sticky tissues, but thank heavens that's all I'll worry over.