So both the babies are officially sick. I was terrified thinking it was the swine flu (not that it terrifies me otherwise?). Ian rushed June off to CHEO Tuesday night because her fever was 105 and she was coughing like a madwoman. It's so hard to let her go without me but I had to stay back with the baby so I wouldn't risk getting her sick, too.
Apparently they don't even test you for it anymore. We just got information on how to take care of her. She sometimes wasn't even responsive it was SO terrible. She did hum the Disney song at the beginning of Wall E which just broke my heart even more because her voice was so raspy and cut out a lot into a whisper.
So we go for Rosie's shots yesterday and bring June along to be checked out because she's not getting any better. Dr Robert (aka the coolest guy on planet Earth) said that we were dealing with Croup. It's the worst. And there's Rosie all happy and cooing at him. I think we're in the clear and that all my anal antics and sanitizing has kept her safe. Well now she's got it too.
Tonight when Ian left for work, I was all confident thinking I'd be able to make time to do my forty loads of laundry, then the door closes and Rosie is screaming and burning up on my left while June decides to cough herself into a barfing fit on my right. Needless to say, I'm typing in my bra tonight. I finally got them each into their rooms (for Rose that means MY room) and I'm still not doing laundry.
It's so hard when they both need 100% of you and you can't give enough to either of them. They both just want to be on me and cuddled and swooned over. I can't believe a) there are people who do this alone or b) people who have multiples. My heart hurts.
Cue crying babies