The last few days were highly stressful. I always keep my cool, but there were times when I didn’t think I could handle it. C was tested for a staph infection on Thursday morning and it came back positive midday Friday. There were a few hours when we didn’t know if it was the dangerous MRSA (the kind of resistant staph that you hear horror stories about on the news) or a type of staph that was sensitive to the antibiotic that C had started.
Those were a few scary hours. As much as I was trying to stay focused on one task at a time, one moment at a time, I may have had visions of my son lying in a hospital bed close to death. Extreme, yes. But it was difficult to keep my mind focused on logic and statistics at the time.
Thankfully, the staph bacteria must have been very sensitive to the antibiotic that C is taking, because they knew within a few hours that it was easily treatable and the course of treatment would remain the same.
*huge sigh of relief*
Now, I just had to worry about keeping things sanitized, hands clean, antibiotics, applying an ointment 3x/day…most importantly, keeping Baby Jo healthy. Staph is highly contagious. C’s particular infection is only transmittable via skin-to-skin contact. That means that if he touches his belly, he can pass it on when he touches something/someone else.
I washed all of the sheets and towels in hot water immediately. We’re putting C in onesies to keep his belly inaccessible to him. We’re washing hands all the time. Then tonight, it was bath night.
That’s when things got complicated. Give Baby Jo a bath. Feed Baby Jo. C needed his final feeding. It needed to last an hour to prevent vomiting. Baby Jo needed to go to bed. The remainder of C’s feed wasn’t going down, in fact stomach contents were rising back into the syringe. (Side note-I think we need to explore slow gastric emptying as a cause of his troubles.) Slow the feed down to an hour and ten minutes. Prepare C’s bath. Get him dressed. Wash my hands. Wash his hands. Throw his towel and washcloth into the washing machine. Put C to bed – which he absolutely didn’t want to do.
He was jumping, falling face first onto his pillow, saying, “Mama, mama, mommy, mama, mommy,” over and over and over again. I haven’t felt this in a while, but the anxiety started to build inside of me until my skin was crawling. I had to get up and clean. The bathtub needed bleaching to kill any lingering bacteria. I scrubbed the tub with bleach while C roamed the apartment.
When I didn’t think things could get more stressful, here we are dealing with a staph infection and apparently now my postpartum anxiety has decided to make a comeback.