Your Skin

I hate your skin. It makes me sad and mad and crazy. I cry thinking about your misery. I hate how it makes my happy girl itchy and miserable and cranky. Its gotten worse, not better. The nightly baths, the creams—they seem to do nothing. Your skin is still itchy and bumpy. Every picture of you is a reminder—the greasy hair from the creams. You clawing at your skin. It preoccupies you. It keeps you up and wakes you up. Mommy and daddy have to give you medicine at night to help you sleep. Mommy tries to remember it is good for you—to let your body rest. But it kills me to "drug" you every night. But also because mommy and daddy can't be up every night from 2-3 or 1-2 ... it makes it hard to function. Hard to lie on the couch with you whimpering on our belly. Scratching, miserable. We are trying soy. We've heard about honey, and special bracelets, and bleach baths ... and want to look into homopathic interventions. We are going back to the allergist on Monday. We just want to find out what is causing this. What we can do to control it. We'll do anything.