Claire, my sweet little Claire, is reacting badly to the shots she had yesterday. Her fever hasn't been below 101 since 8 pm last night. It maxed out at 104 this morning. I was steeling myself against the possibility of febrile seizures, but they never came (I anticipate, therefore I do not panic). Holding her I can feel the fever moving around her little body. Her head is burning with that sharp, hot fever feeling - the sensation that tells all of my maternal instincts that something is wrong. Nursing her is like nursing a roast. She's heavy and still and hot in my arms.
I've hardly put her down. I made dinner while holding her, ate while holding her, slept while holding her. I can only offer her the comfort of Tylenol and my presence. My poor little lovey.
This too shall pass.