Two-ish weeks ago, Deuce went from baby coma into what we thought was growth spurt. Made sense following the 3-6-3 rule - 3 days, 6 days, 3 weeks, 6 weeks...you get the idea. I talked with the girls' doctor about her uncomfortableness of being on her back. It had just started a couple days prior so she said to watch it, hopefully it wouldn't amount to anything. Neither of us wanted to jump to antibiotics and planned to give her a week to straighten itself out. 1 week turned into the second and she progressively acquired signs of reflux. Last Friday I knew she turned the corner. This wasn't going to clear on its own.
Thankfully, after reading loads of horror stories on the interwebz I can assume that it's a mild case. Other than grunting, hating on the Back to Sleep campaign and spit ups after feedings, she has been a good baby. I, on the other hand, was the mess. No more than 2 hour stretches for 5 weeks will make this mama a dull girl. This week - with help of Zantac and coffee - has been much better. Hopefully Deuce sends reflux packing sooner rather than later.
Reflux can kick rocks. To be read with heavy handed sarcasm. She's just too pretty to have to deal with this.