Читать книгу Just Breathe - Honey Perkel - Страница 14

Brian had the croup several more times. Bob and I became experts after that first episode. We ran the shower, keeping the bathroom door closed and the window slightly opened as thick steam filled the space. I paced the room holding Brian, singing to him, cooing to him, telling him to relax and breathe.

Or if that didn’t work, I sat with him on the front porch huddled under thick blankets, attempting to get him to breathe the brisk, icy air. Sometimes the cold air helped. Sometimes the steam. We never knew which. And the Tempra every six hours, the Pediazole, the Accurbron helped, too.

Even with these attacks Brian continued to thrive. Our little family was wonderful for the time being. We were certain, however, that another baby would eventually come our way.

Brian began to crawl. His first word was “Baba”, his name for my mother, followed by “Da-Da”, “Ma-ma”, “tickle”, and “dog”. He cut his first tooth in January and sat up in his high chair to eat. I now added an egg yolk to his diet twice a week, yellow and green vegetables, and crackers at snack time.

He loved playing with Punim, who seemed very protective of her two-legged brother. They followed each other everywhere.

Brian wrestled with his dad and enjoyed quiet times with me. He loved to cuddle. He loved to be held, read to, and sung to. I played my childhood records for him while he bounced on his chubby, solid little legs holding onto the railing of his playpen.

Did every mother believe their baby was the most beautiful? Even from the beginning, I thought so. With a cherub face, long eyelashes, and curly light brown hair, Brian was the most beautiful child. People were always mistaking him for a girl. I would dress him in a little blue knit sweater and pants with a football embroidered on the front or in a baseball suit and matching cap and someone would stop me to express what a beautiful little girl she was.

And once in a market when I explained she was actually a he, the woman exclaimed that having such eyelashes were so wasted on a boy. I laughed. I didn’t agree. I knew one day a young girl would come along and fall in love with those lashes.

At nine months old Brian weighed 20 pounds, 5 ounces and was 29 1/4 inches tall. In the ninety percentile for his age, the doctor told me. I started him on 2 percent milk. At his nine month check-up, the pediatrician found a heart murmur. Three months later, it was gone.