BK3's birthday party was this past Saturday. As it felt much more like a wedding, and not a simple birthday party, I was left puzzled as to why we put so much emphasis into this one event...when he truly remembered none of it. Thank goodness I remembered the camera. Oh well, at least the pictures came out cute, and we all sure had a great time. My mother's day was great, at first. My husband woke me up and cooked breakfast for us. We met my family for church downtown, and then shared a lunch with them. Here is where it began to go downhill... BK3 had none of the lunch. He was fussy, didn't want to sit still, didn't want to eat, nothing. Only wanted to be outside looking at the dog that was visiting the area. Brannan and I took turns taking him outside, as something just wasn't right. He never cries. He never fusses for no reason. There's nothing food can't fix when it comes to this baby. I knew something was up. I enjoyed my salad, and then a few hours later, BAM. Doubled over with stomach pain. Nausea. Not ok. I finished out the day in his mom's spare bedroom lying down, as he and baby B visited with the Honeycutts. I felt terrible. And even more so because I couldn't visit with important people on Mother's day. I got home luckily without tossing my cookies, and less than an hour later - there it was. Full on vomiting every 20 to 30 minutes. I had no clue what was going on. Thankfully, Brannan finished up the baby duties, got the toys in the house from the party, fed BK3, bathed him, and even called my OB on call just to see if I could take anything for the vomiting. I was really afraid of harming our new little one that I'm carrying! I told Brannan he better sleep on the couch, made sure his baby monitor was on, and then I tried to sleep. Wasn't working because of course, the trips to the bathroom kind of interrupted that. Then 2 a.m., I hear BK3 heaving in his baby bed. Nightmare. I wake Brannan up and we see that BK3 is covered. His bed, his bumper pads, sheets soaked, clothes soaked. Vomit everywhere. Just about that time I started with the "other end" of the virus. Yeah....it gets better. We get the baby cleaned up, calmed down, not back to sleep just yet, and there it is again. Every 20 minutes. Just puke. Awful. Me praying I don't mess my pants, and Daddy Brannan yelling "HELP" from the living room every time BK3 starts gagging. Seriously. I didn't know what could be worse? About the 3rd time BK3 blew chunks, Daddy B decides it's a good time to tell me "I'm not feeling so good either". Great. Awesome. Let's all just jump on this bandwagon together. No sleep. For any of us. BK3 didn't stop vomiting til 9 a.m. I had finished the vomiting, but kept the other end going for another 12 hours. Daddy B just felt nauseous, but none of us slept. I had a pile of towels in the back room - towels, sheets, bumper pads, clothes, just soaked in vomit. Nasty. And I knew I had to clean that.
Once the smoke cleared and Daddy B got his 6 hours of sleep that he needed, he looks at me and says "man, that was rough". It quickly reminded me of the my laboring process. 9 hours of 29 mL Pitocin, no epidural, lamaze breathing, contractions that were peaking OFF the charts with only 30 second breaks (they lasted for 90 seconds). After that 9 hours, I gave in and said "OK. Bring out the needle...this is going nowhere", but not in a calm voice. Once I got that needle.....and calmed down. And smiled. Daddy B looks at me and says "Man...glad you got that epidural. That was stressful." Gee babe was it? Yep, I agree. I do. It must have been so stressful :) With a smile.
I was so thankful though. Despite the 48 hours of no sleep Sunday and Monday, I was SO thankful that Daddy B sat there on the couch with a sick BK3 and only yelled "HELP". I wasn't sleeping anyways.....duh. I could've been the one on that couch. Pretty sure I'd have been crying at that point.
Needless to say, I hated throwing up when I was a kid. I used to tell everyone around me "I love you", because I thought I would die. I hated it that much. It scared the living daylights out of me. I still hate it. But what I hate even more is to see my little munchkin have it too. I said it today "I'll birth 5 more children before I have to go through all three of us and the stomach virus within 24 hours ever again." It was THAT bad, and I'm trying not to be dramatic. I kept reminding myself that "It's just a stomach virus", people are really sick out there, and here I am complaining about a stomach virus. It was more the process, and my test as a mama. Not the actual feelings of the sickness.
No. I'm not "Mom" enough to breastfeed my babies til they're standing up to my breast at 4 years of age for a photo-op with TIME magazine. But I am "Mom" enough to survive the stomach bug. With the whole family. In 24 hours. Can I get a hell yeah?
No comments:
Post a Comment