Here we are, still in hospital, Léonie still hooked up to a drip which is feeding her antibiotics, sausages and beans in liquid form. The good news is they transfered us to a bigger room with a proper big bed in, so I got to sleep stetched out with Léonie by my side. Sorry, did I say sleep? In my wildest dreams.
Our ‘night’ was ram-packed with fun and frolics. Léonie cried often and a lot. I awoke over and over again drenched in milk. I could feed the entire pediatric unit with two boobies alone. Doctors and nurses included. I have washed my bra and it is drying on the heater. In the meantime I have a muslin square stuffed down my t-shirt in case of leakage, which makes me look like Nora Batty, chest-wise. Rumpled, crooked and low-slung. It is a look that can only be carried off whilst in hospital or in the privacy of your own home with the door bolted shut. Like the wet-patches-over-breasts-t-shirt look. And the sports-socks-in-Crocs look. A very popular look in hospital, that one.
The good news is the meningitis result came in negative. They’re still searching for the infection in her little body. I just gave her a bath and witnessed her doing a fizzy poo. Yes, fizzy. Bubbles and all. Like she’s been loaded into a Sodastream machine, upside down. So I’ve alerted the nurses and they’ve taken a ‘sample’. She might just have a gut infection, which would also explain why she cries so much when she feeds and poos.
I hope that wasn’t too much information for the first Monday morning of the year.