Firsts

It's what I've dreaded the most. Greyson has caught his first cold. What started out as a dry cough for a couple of days has now turned into a horrific bark ringing with a chorus of phlegm. He's been waking up on and off between the time he's put down for bed at 6:30pm and his 10:30 feed. Sometimes he's inconsolable, crying and coughing, other times he smiles and is comforted just by a little holding. Nonetheless, we've been enduring about an hour and half of crying every night since Sunday. It's been both exhausting and heartbreaking. I've never felt helplessness like this. There's nothing to do for him but elevate his crib and put a humidifier in this room. He's too young for medication. I guess this is further initiation to parenthood, watching on the sidelines while your children tackle the obstacle course of life, cheering them on but unable to run for them. I feel now what I've always heard other parents say, that I would rather be the one sick, than for him to be. I know this isn't a big deal, it's just a common cold during winter, it's to be expected. Still, every one of Greyson's "firsts" is a "first" for me too. It's harder than I ever expected.