103.3, to be exact.
Tallu had a fever Monday morning, which meant I stayed home to take her to the doctor. The heat was radiating from her head, she was whiny, and once she refused to nurse. I decided to check her temperature after I changed her diaper. Once the thermometer passed 101 I started crying. Yes, I know that's silly. Her leg was on backwards at birth, but I got a wigged out because the baby had a fever.
Obviously she's fine now, I gave her acetomeniphin (with the doctor's permission, of course.) The doctor said to watch her temperature over the next 48 hours, and if it didn't return to normal, or if she behaved unusually, to bring her back. This morning her temperature was normal, but it did rise to 100.3 this afternoon. No big deal- more meds, fever's down again. I'll check it before we leave home tomorrow, to make sure she's well.
For the past two days she's been nursing like she'll never nurse again. That's actually a good thing. Nursing is always a good thing, but keeping a baby hydrated is important, especially when she has a fever. But being home for the past two days (well, three- she was starting to go downhill Friday) was good for her, but bad for me.
I realized that I have no interest in working anywhere for the next eight months except with Tallu. Given the hell that I just went through with my various debtors, you'd think I'd be clawing at my job's doors. I'm simply not interested in being there. It's been three weeks now- that schpiel about returning to work being a good thing was just to convince myself to get there in the mornings.
The desperation has worn off, and I realize the place she's at now is not so hot. I picked her up Thursday and one of the caretakers said to me: "I am exhausted. We had fifteen babies, and two of us this afternoon." The ratio of infants to adults in such a facility is supposed to be 3:1. That's not negotiable. A woman I know started working at Tallu's daycare yesterday. She gave me the inside scoop about what she saw happening there during the day she interviewed, which was last Friday. I won't share the details here, but it did not inspire confidence. I cannot confirm that the two boo-boos on the back of Tallu's feet happened while she was in daycare, but I'm sure they didn't happen while she was at home.
The reality is that I need money. But my daughter needs to be taken care of, which is more important than money. Speaking of which, I need to pump so she'll have food for tomorrow. So no matter how much I want to stay home with her, I cannot. Even if I leave my job, I'll have to work somewhere else, since no one's gonna pay me to stay home. I really can't get much more than an hour or two of work done- believe me, I've tried.
Caring for a feverish baby was not easy, but it was nice to be home with her again. Now she's well, and playing mommy is over- I gotta get back to work tomorrow.