Ooh, bad website writer person. Bad bad bad bad bad.
You no update website at all so far in December!
We all go elsewhere and read proper website.
Ahh, don’t be like that, fellas! Look, Millie’s been moping around the place like a wet blanket; we’ve been away in Swindon for a long weekend, we’ve had to take time off work to take care of Millie (despite the astonishing amount of money we pay childcare, they just don’t want to know if your child falls ill) and…oh, just everything.
We thought we were doing well yesterday to get the Christmas tree and decorations put up!
Good news is that Millie’s well again, although still on antibiotics; I’m back at work, the Lovely Melanie’s back at work and the girl is safely back at nursery.
It was much worse watching Millie being ill this time, as she was racked by coughing fits and really really unhappy, which is horrible to see.
As with so many things about parenting, I’d never really thought about it before, but watching your daughter hacking away to the point where she’s throwing up her food is not something I want to do again in a hurry. In some ways it’s almost worse than when she was born and in the incubator, because at least then she didn’t seem so distressed.
OK, we could have actually lost her at any moment, but that’s a different experience to the more visceral, immediately upsetting prospect of seeing your daughter desperately unhappy and being unable to do anything to help, except give her a hug, rub her head and try to calm her down.
Until you’ve seen your daughter’s repreoachful tear-streaked face looking up at you between coughing fits, as if to say, “Come on, daddy, you can do anything – can’t you help me??” then you don’t know what helplessness is.
I’m reminded of the bit in the original Superman movie, when Pa Kent dies and Clark says, “All these powers, all these things I can do, and I couldn’t even save him.” Because I remember how all-powerful my dad (and mum, but mostly my dad) seemed to me when I was small – he had unbelievable strength, could jump higher than I could stand, run faster than my naked eye could follow, solve any problem in an instant…
Any adult is basically a super-hero to a small child: adults have such utterly unfathomable abilities that, when you’re small, it’s almost impossible to believe that you’ll ever be as mighty as they are.
And then, suddenly, there you are, with the same super abilities yourself, and you don’t feel very heroic at all.
But I digress, as usual.
After almost a week of Millie getting slowly but steadily worse I took her to the doctor’s on Friday (having said the magic words “premature baby” and gotten an emergency appointment).
The doctor was very very nice and, despite Millie looking (of course!) not nearly as sick as she had just 60 minutes previously, he took me seriously, giving us some spectacularly yellow antibiotic medicine, with the result that Millie is already much better.
You’ll find some new photos below. Millie looks quite solemn in them, and that’s because she wasn’t very well when they were taken, but in the most recent one (taken when we were putting the Christmas decorations up yesterday) she’s obviously almost back to her old self.
Which means I get to be a superhero again, rather than just a particularly comfy chair to lie on whilst watching daytime TV.