Isaiah got a rash this week. It was terrible. At least, it was terrible for Michael and I. Isaiah, as a matter of fact, didn't seem to mind or notice that he had a rash at all.
Michael and I were visiting friends of ours from the Caribou where I worked while I was pregnant. Isaiah's diaper was wet and he was getting fussy about it, so I went into the bathroom to change it. Then, as I was putting a dry diaper back on him, I noticed that there were little red dots on his cute little tush. Then I looked at his stomach and saw that there were red dots on it as well. They were pretty faint, and I figured they were from his clothing. My guess was that I had forgotten to wash that outfit in baby detergent and had washed it in regular detergent instead. No worries. So I kept him naked (except for the diaper) and figured it would go away. Instead it got much, much worse.
The dots became much more red (although they stayed as tiny as pin pricks) and spread to everywhere on his body. Everywhere. He had tiny dots in the soles of his feet, the palms of his hands, the inside of his ears, the top of his head. Everywhere. We took him for a walk and let the sun shine on his little legs, and his legs became grotesquely covered in harsh, bright red dots. Michael gave him a bath hoping that the water would sooth his skin, and it did nothing. I learned so much in those three days about rashes it was ridiculous. I learned that this was NOT heat rash, nor impetigo, nor roseola, nor anything else that I could find on the internet. When we finally got him to the doctor, she didn't know what it was either, but she could tell us, from looking in his ears and nose and throat, that he didn't have a virus to go along with it, so he would most likely be alright.
All this time, Isaiah was happy and carefree, and still didn't seem to notice the rash at all. I think the whole rash was more harmful to my health than his, and within a day or two, it was all gone. I think the most he suffered from it was when I had to check his temperature rectally twice a day. Oh, and at this doctor's visit, he weighed 16 pounds, 4 ounces.
On a less stressful note, Michael has a job (yay!) and he likes it a lot (yay!) Also, Isaiah has been rolling over more frequently and with less visible effort. I can't believe how much he grows up every day. I wish he could remember these times when he gets older. They are such sweet and exciting times for me, and when I see how much fun he has, I think of how wonderful it would be if he could look back 20 years from now and say "Oh, I remember how much it used to crack me up when my dad would blow on my stomach." or "Yeah, it was pretty cool to take naps twice a day in my mom's arms." I guess I'll just have to remember it all for him. It's an amazing treasure that I have, being able to watch Isaiah grow up and gradually, already, change from being my baby into his own person. I love it, and it breaks my heart at the same time. I would like to be able to hold him forever, but already he wants his own independence. It's very odd to feel so excited for changes, yet not want them to come at all. My consolation is that when he was a newborn, I never wanted him to grow out of that stage because it was so wonderful and sweet, but every day (with one or two exceptions) has been better than the day before. I love watching my baby grow.