Monday morning, around 4, I woke up and thought I was dying. Or giving birth to a chest burster from Alien.
Does that thing have silver teeth? Weird.
Anyway, after realizing I was not dying, I found that I had to puke. Badly. Now I know no one likes barfing, but I hate it. I did almost 9 months of it being pregnant with Bella, and then 6 months of it with her – I think I’ve had my fair share.
I threw up, and threw up, and threw up. I was miserable. Bella woke up, Sam took her and got her back to sleep each time, while I laid my head on the toilet. Thankfully, I did not have my contacts in or I would have thrown up looking at it.
Finally, I took a Zofran and passed out. I woke up at 8 to throw up some more, and begged Sam to stay home. He couldn’t (which I knew) but promised he could be home by 4 if I got worse.
I had no idea how on earth I was going to watch Bella and not barf on her.
When she woke up from morning nap, Sam was gone and I could barely drag myself into her room to get her. Standing over the changing table was another matter. My head was pounding and I kept mumbling, “Don’t barf, don’t barf.”
As soon as we got into the living room, I put her in the pack ‘n play. She hates being in there, but she stayed for a little while and played, and peeped over the edge at me on the couch while I drifted in and out of sleep.
Then she started fussing and I knew she was hungry, but the thought of smelling food or getting up to feed her – it was too much. So I got her sippy, I poured some organic O things into a grabber bowl thing, and set her on me on the couch to eat.
I found on Caillou on Netflix and I thought about how hideous that kid’s house was. What kind of decorator picked out all the primary colors in their home? And what was his mom wearing? Did she never leave the house? Or have friends?
I watched the clock the whole time, because I simply wanted to go back to sleep. At 1:30 Bella went to bed, and I laid on the couch. At 2, fast asleep, Sam called to check in on me. Bless his heart, he was so worried but it woke me up and I was cranky.
At 2:30 Bella woke up. I knew, I just knew, there was no way I could get up and have her out with me till 6:30. I laid on the couch and prayed for her to go back to sleep, bargaining with God in just about every way I could. However, nothing worked, so I finally got up to get her while realizing I ached so bad. Akin to being in a really bad car accident.
I put on finding Nemo (quite honestly, this kid has never watched that much TV in her life, I think she went into overload) and we laid on the couch and watched it. After gaping at the screen in total silence for 45 minutes, she started fussing. I put her on the floor, where she burst into sobs. So, I pulled a pillow down, laid next to her, and covered up my eyes to block out any light.
Around 5 I was able to hold down some medicine and felt better. Sam came home and brought me Chipotle (hey, I asked for it and I so wanted to eat something, but it turned out that wasn’t what I need to eat).
That night he got sick. So he spent the day on the couch while I recovered from it and Bella ran a fever.
So to sum it up:
- No on the primary colors in a house
- Lace on sweatshirts is not attractive
- If you have to barf, clean your toilet first
- If you want to have another kid, get the stomach flu and then decide
- Inform family members that they are not allowed to get sick when you are
- No Chipotle after stomach flu
How do you moms do it that work and/or have more than one kid? Amazing.