On Tuesday of this week baby goat turned 11 months which simply blows my mind. In the last week or so I have been struck with memories of what became the last several weeks of my pregnancy. I was so proud because I was finally starting to look pregnant rather than just a little fatter than I was before. I remember breaking out the maternity dress for a wedding, and finally submitting to a few belly shots.
Now suddenly it is a year later and I have an 11 month old who hardly resembles the tiny preemie we met last February. He's grown taller and if possible even more boyish. He is topping the scale at 27 lbs which is a far cry from 4 lbs 7 oz. He has opinions, strong ones. He loves balls, musical instruments and standing. He has yet to master the forward crawl but it doesn't seem to prevent him from getting around via a variety of rolling, scooting and backward crawling.
He has been sick since last Thursday but it was his 11 month birthday that saw a development for the worse. On that day the cold seemed to reach his lungs and he got progressively wheezy over the next 24 hours. (As a result my 11 month photo shoot was not so successful). So Wed morning I took off and we packed up to the doctors office. I'm glad we did as his wheezing had gotten awful and LOUD. The doctor determined that it was likely a cold and no real sign of pneumonia or RSV, but worried that baby goat has asthma. If you've seen yesterday's Wordless Wednesday then I'm sure you already gathered that fact.
Feeling under the weather on his 11 month birthday.
While it may not be a difinitive diagnosis due to his young age and the high number of kids who grow out of breathing problems, it still called for a rigorous treatment of nebulizers a steroid and an antibiotic (just to be on the safe side). A day and a half later, baby goat is looking up. He still isn't quite well but he no longer sounds like a crazed heavy-breather phone stalker.
The next day: Drugs make me feel better!
Surprisingly, the thought of baby goat having asthma doesn't have me channeling my neurotic worry-mom talents. Maybe it was his beginning or the fact that I had asthma as a child myself but I feel like now we know that colds will need extra care and that we know what to look for as danger signs that his breathing isn't what it should be.
Baby goat continues to be one my greatest joys in life. I can't wait until I see him each morning and each night. I adore playing with him and hearing his babble of mama and baba (ball mostly). (Dada is there but he doesn't say it as often - score one for mom?) I am blown away everyday by the fact that I get to be his mother. Happy 11 months baby goat. I wouldn't trade a snot-filled minute!