With two pearly whites immerging from Jude’s bottom gum, he’s officially six months old today (also, it’s Grandma Janet’s birthday!). Recently, I came across a picture of myself at six months, dressed in a colorful Japanese komodo, grinning with two teeth peaking out from the same location.
No longer reacting to his environment, Jude now interacts with it, grabbing at anything in sight, straining upwards when placed on his back, like a muscled body-builder. Months before he was content to sit placidly, now we can’t leave him on the bed even for a second in fear that he’ll fall off, nor can we leave anything that may end up in his mouth within arms length.
I’ve learned that he doesn’t care for string beans but when disguised with pear and banana, he’ll swallow otherwise it’ll end up in the tub. Jude likes to eat. Now, he lunges at whatever goes into my mouth, be it a turkey wrap or a popsicle now that he grasps the concept of eating.
On Saturday, I spent my first night away from Jude since he was born, although technically much longer if you include pregnancy. Showing off his picture to any willing viewer, I began missing Jude more and more as the day turned into night. Around six I thought about how Matt must (hopefully) be feeding him in the bath then around seven I thought about him falling asleep.
With the handy breastpump, I stuck off during Saturday’s wedding intermittently to expel breast milk. Later, I sat on the bed, talking to friends, or in a chair in the room. Indeed, I no longer have any shyness about my body.
In the morning, I slept in until 10 a.m., the longest since Jude’s birth. Even though I spent the night on a crinkling, plastic-wrapped twin bed, it was a treat to not wake at 5:30 a.m.
Ryan came home on the 30th and we spent the day with Jude, kayaking (Becky, Ryan’s mom watched him) and swimming in her pool. I began experiencing a sharp pain in my right breast (Big Boob) that increasingly became more painful as the day wore on. By the early evening I started experiencing headaches and dizziness. Big Boob felt inflamed and scorching hot. When I called the doctor’s office a nurse informed me that it sounded like I’d developed mastitis, a condition in which the breast tissue becomes infected. Whereas it doesn’t sound like something to worry much about, in the ominous words of the nurse, “You’ll feel like you got run over by a bus.”
By 11 p.m. I was running a 104 degree fever, switching between sweating and shivering and completely immobile. All night and into the morning, the fever raged on: a combination of a horrible hang-over like headache, my body feeling like a pinata after a beating and utter exhaustion that robbed me of all coordination. I couldn’t muster the strength to hold Jude and my breast felt as though shards of glass were inside. He still nursed on Big Boob, but not without Matt pinning down Jude’s arms to ensure he didn’t swipe at it.
By the time I visited the doctor that morning, the fever had subsided slightly, but I was still lethargic and delirious, forgetting to fill out the medical forms and falling asleep on the examining table. With a prescription of antibiotics, the fever quickly went down and all that was left was the pounding headache and dizziness. Once August rolls around, I’ve decided to start weaning Jude, especially after this horrible infection.
On the upside, I think that six months is the best time because of all the reasons listed above, plus Jude hasn’t developed stranger anxiety that tends to plague babies as they get a bit older. He has the ability to recognize me and Matt, but without always preferring us, per se. Jude has also begun saying, “Wa-wa-wa-wa” which would make for a cute Wa-Wa store commercial.
In all, I’m in disbelief that so much time has passed and I can’t imagine my life without Jude. It’s amazing to think that so much has happened and changed over these few months.