My Little Patchy Baby

We've spent the last week taking Baby Bean to various doctors. Her face is still peeling and spotty and we're worried. And though we're not paranoid parents it got a bit too much, even by our standards, when we found pus behind her ears.

The doctor we were taking her to all this while only consults for a short while each morning, there is always a huge crowd and the medicine he gave only works as long as we apply it. The moment her skin clears up and we stop, it starts all over again.

Finally we heard of an excellent paediatric intensivist who has come back to India after years of practicing abroad and so we took her to see him. He told us she has eczema. Which explains the cradle cap. He also told us that eczema is a dry skin condition for life. And sometimes, only sometimes, it is associated with asthma and food allergies. And then he proceeded to check her lungs and heart. It was around this time that I lost heart. The checking of the heart.

So there she is. Five weeks old and her face peeling, pus behind her ears, her scalp flaking off thick and yellow and the rest of her body red and frightful in the creases.

We took her home with the prescribed medication and sat down to bathe her, moisturise her and apply the medication. And the Brat came along and kept kissing her - big, wet open mouthed kisses all over her body, ingesting the ointment. I tried to stop him and gave up. Let him love his little Beanie baby as much as he wants.

And then to show him how irritating it is to be kissed non-stop all day, I caught him and began to give him the same treatment. Kissing his sturdy little arms and legs, nuzzling his neck, hugging him tight. And smelling baby powder and a clean bathed baby. Now when I picked up the poor patchy little Bean and cuddled and kissed her, I only smelled the medication. Harsh and strong. Not what I want my little baby girl to smell like.

So as we turned in for the night I hugged her close and ended up crying. Babies are meant to be soft and sweet smelling - like babies! My poor little angel is peeling off and patchy like a dalmatian and probably itching but can't tell us.

I had just put away my Bible and I knelt to pray and held her little hands and asked God to take away her skin problems. And as I cried and prayed, I realised how weak I was being. The Brat has been through a few bouts of fever and many a dislocated wrist and shoulder. But never have I been told that something is a 'life condition.' Never have they checked his heart. Never have I been told he might be afflicted with something lifelong like asthma.

I've seen my brother choke and wheeze and gasp for breath because he suffers from asthma. He's been hospitalised for it and he lives with his inhaler in his pocket. And it's always made me ache. And to think I might see my daughter do the same makes me want to curl up in a dark corner and cry.

I've seen my dad try remedy after remedy for his eczema and now he lives with dark patches of thickened skin on his face and neck (yes, that is why we tease him about having to smile on a dark night to be seen). So both these allergies and conditions are actually things she gets from me. From my side. And I feel terrible. The babies look exactly like me. And I've passed on disadvantages from my side too. But that is neither here nor there.

As I kept praying frantically and asking God to let me suffer instead of her, I realised that I was being silly. There are children and parents who face far greater challenges with much more courage and fortitude. This is nothing. The doctor has only told me to watch out for signs of asthma and lung problems and food allergies. Right now she can be treated. And we just have to keep up the treatment for life. And it's only an itchy skin disease and a flaky scalp for God's sake. Nothing to cry over.

And then I realised, that we are only tested by God as much as we can take. He probably feels I am incapable of seeing my child suffer any more. Pus behind her ears is the most I can take. And so that is all I am given. But I guess no matter what it is that your child has, you want it to go away. Nothing is enough. Even the slightest problem affects you greatly as a parent. You can't bear to see it.

A birthmark, a skin problem, a lung problem, a handicap, a hole in the heart, a squint, anything. Because we want our babies to be perfect. Because we want to do all we can to give them the best possible start in life. Because we eat our vitamins, take our rest, get our shots and go through even a caesarean if it means giving them a healthier and safer start to life. Because we want them to have perfect lives.