Relief

The clogs are gone. A visit with the doctor led to an all-clear diagnosis for infection and more home remedy notions. The local lactation expert was consulted, and one odd piece of advice arose from both sources: apply cabbage leaves.

Allegedly, the leaves will hold warmth and conform to the chest better than washcloths, making for a more efficient clog melter. By the time I got home, Your Sister was much better. I can vouch for the results: The mass is no more. Keebler is feeding normally again, and he drank from her all evening to keep the flow, um, flowing. So. Cabbage. Yes. She was also warned to not sleep on only one side at night.

Also, the nurses reminded us of the mandatory new-parent video session: A colicky baby can be left along in a room to cry it out. Before we left the hospital with our new roommate, we were given a TV and video with instructions that we weren't leaving until we watched it. It concerned PURPLE crying and how we should handle it. To break a cycle of frustration, the video commanded us to just walk away. Put the baby safely on his own and skedaddle and breathe.

If we can do it, that is. We did that very thing the first time he had a colic attack, and he went to sleep quicker than any time after when we ministered and cooed. But it tore up Your Sister. She literally had to clutch the couch to stay in the TV room. So maybe this is something we need to let him work out alone -- the first of assuredly thousands of such laissez-faire parenting decisions.

He was fine last night. He got plenty of feeding time with her instead of from a bottle, and colic stay away even when he did swig from a fridge batch. She ran low, as one might expect. He fought sleep again, and I plopped him in his bassinet and carried both to the nursery. After about ten minutes, he was out for the night. This is his new default night mode: seven hours of sleep. Huzzah.

Picture of the Day
The southern lights seen from the International Space Station.