Today was one of the harder days of my travels.
Ilya is sick. She has this horrible phlemy cough accompanied by a runny nose. I know that kids get sick, and that I have been particularly lucky that this is only the second time in her life that she has ever been sick, but I am irrationally terrified that she is going to get worse and die. I worry that she is too cold or that she caught something nasty on the plane, and I feel guilty (for taking her on this crazy trip in the first place) and scared at the same time.
To make matters worse, I feel even more guilty that I took her outside today when she was sick. I wouldn't have done it, but I REALLY need a sleeping bag to fend off the seeping cold that is Magdeburg. I didn't find one. I did find a french coffee press that I was really excited about then promptly shattered on the cold hard ground. We got off at the wrong tram stop on our way home (which is a big deal when it is sub-freezing temperatures outside), and I broke the internet so I can't even call my family to tell them my woes.
I felt like crying - I was so overwhelmed by everything and miserably cold, but I couldn't cry because Ilya was crying. So, I stopped trying to clean and cook and just held my baby and rocked her, and it helped. Both of us. She cuddled her head into my chest and fell asleep, and I remembered that nothing is as important as my family.