Unfortunately for Baby, there's a meningococcal B epidemic in New Zealand. There is a vaccination program, but it requires several jabs over several months and each jab makes her utterly miserable.
Yesterday Baby had her five-month vaccinations, and her third and last meningococcal B (Mens b) vaccination. Contrary to the nurse's assurance that most babies don't get so unwell with the third one, the poor wee scrap is feeling very poorly indeed. When I went in to give her the 10pm feed last night, I just about scalded my hands on her feverish skin.
2.5 mls of Pamol (Paracetamol for babies) and two hours of cuddling and rocking later, she was finally back in her cot asleep.
Until 3am, that is. Baby marked her 22-week birthday with a scream that threatened to burst my ear drums (I was sleeping in the spare bed in her room).
"Time for some more Pamol", I thought. Despite it's supposedly "pleasant" taste, Baby sure doesn't like it; we've always had to syringe the stuff into the side of her mouth a little at a time, to minimise spit-up. On the fifth and final squirt, an ominous gurgle came from the back of her throat and before I could say "where's the tissues?" she'd puked up the entire dosage - as well what looked to be her total milk intake for the last three feeds.
"Oh good job, Violet" I silently muttered as I attempted to mop up the baby, my lap and the rug, not only was she not medicated but I'd have to wait at least four hours before I could try again, and she was now hungry, dehydrated and exhausted as well.
One good thing came of it though; all that regurgitated liquid cooling on her body seemed to help with her temperature.
Needless to say there wasn't much sleep to be had by either of us, and I can look forward to another night just like it. But I was not at all pleased to see that Baby's so-called third and final Mens b jabwill not be the last one after all .