Oh man, remember my Passover Interrupted post, which I typed while carrying/wearing a sick and disconsolate baby around the house, trying anything and everything to appease her? I’m there again — this time sitting outside, on my porch, rocking K back and forth in the hammock swing. She finally just closed her eyes and ceased her screams. Poor little baby was bitten badly by the stomach bug and has been puking and heaving and crying and whining since yesterday afternoon.
It all started at Sprouts Farmer’s Market yesterday. We arrived home from NY the previous evening and our kitchen was in desperate need of restocking. So, while R frolicked at the zoo with her grandparents, K and I drove into town for a shopping. I had been in perma-smile mode all morning because my sister-like cousin just welcomed her first baby, and now I have a beautiful, healthy, precious niece!! But my daydreams about meeting little miss baby Eleanor were squashed by K’s intense screams on the drive in. I actually considered pulling over, something I haven’t done since her infancy, when wailing in the carseat was her absolute norm. When I arrived at the store, I pulled her out of the car and placed her in the Ergo — just in time for her to cough and vomit, spewing over my shoulder and into the asphalt. I was pretty startled because that was the very first time in her 14 months that she’s ever so much as spit up — even as a newborn. But I hoped it was a random thing and proceeded inside. I can’t believe we made it home with a full grocery haul because she puked into my hands no less than three times while shopping (I didn’t have a puke bag handy and didn’t want her germs all over the food, so I instinctively offered my cupped hands followed by baby wipes and excessive hand sanitizing. Gross, I know. But there weren’t many options.
On the way home, she cried in her seat but then stopped abruptly. I couldn’t see her, so I called to her, reached my hand back to touch her, and even jiggled the top of her carseat a bit — just begging for some response. Even a gentle push to her head didn’t stir her and I panicked. I pulled over on the freeway shoulder and idled the car as semi trucks whizzed past me at 75 mph. After swiftly unlocking my seatbelt and turning around, I found her midway between awake and asleep, listlessly sitting there but fine overall. She was just really sick, and because I’m used to my energizer bunny’s constant activity, I was not prepared for her spiritless state. I was shaking for the remaining duration of our drive, because for that split second I had imagined the worst.
The next 24 hours went as expected. I attended to a sick baby through the day and night and was reminded of the “pukiversary” I blogged about back in October. She couldn’t hold anything down, and the only thing she showed remote interest in was nursing — I felt grateful that she hasn’t weaned yet. Even though the milk was largely upchucked, it likely nourished her and hydrated her a bit. As you can imagine, my washing machine has been trotting like a workhorse, and I repeatedly said “thank-you” to it and my Clorox wipes.
I’m praying that we’re at the end of a nasty battle. And that I can walk out of the battleground unscathed (I’m quite scared at the present moment because my belly is less than happy and I can’t tell if I’m nauseous or overtired) — we all know how utterly awful it is for the entire household when a mommy is down and out. And have I mentioned that the stomach flu is actually my worst nightmare? I truly live in fear of it, so walking around with it quite literally all over me is cause for concern. EDIT: I’m down for the count. I just crawled into bed in the nursery with K after visiting that famed porcelain bus a few times. I’ll wake up all better, right?