Um- EEEWWW!!!!

Pukefest 2006.

What fun.

Wednesday I picked Little Man up from day care, he was fine. We went to my mother's house. He was fine. And then he wasn't. He puked whatever he ate at day care, on her nice cream-colored rugs.
"Maybe it was just something he ate, it upset his stomach." My mother said, handing him a glass of water and some apple slices. I was hoping she was right. But as I was putting his jacket on to leave, he puked again. Everything slowed down for me then, I knew it wasn't something he ate. Into the bathtub at Grandma's for him, off to the phone with Dr. Dummy for me.
I spent Wednesday, Thursday and Friday awake the whole time. It wasn't enough to go to the ER (Thank GOD!) but it wasn't enough to be okay. He would be okay for a while and then he wouldn't be. I never was. There are no clean towels in my house. There is an overload of Pedialyte in my fridge, which smells like shit to me but the kid likes it. Saturday it was scrub-down city at my house. Sunday I fell asleep when I should have been getting dressed after my shower, because my cousin was here from NYC and I was supposed to be showing him a good ol' time. He, Daddy, and Little Man let me take a nice nap.
Now I'm sick, and Daddy is sick. But it isn't the stomach virus Little Man had, we feel colds. Please, the whole time I was up with Little Man, or just up watching him sleep to make sure he didn't puke in his sleep I was just wishing the sickness would come to me and get away from him. So I'm not going to complain about feeling sick. I'll survive. I can handle it. I can't handle seeing my baby like that- I couldn't. My heart goes out to anyone with Pukefest going on at their house...my wishes for health will be sent your way.

The thing that killed me the most was the fact that he couldn't understand why he couldn't eat, he would beg me for food, cry to me and I felt like shit having to tell him no. It killed me a thousand times over. I didn't eat the whole three days, either, because I wasn't going to eat if he couldn't. I didn't even feel hungry, so it's not like I was starving...even though I know it is part of why I'm sick now, my defenses got weakened. I felt like such an incompetant mother during this whole time, not being able to make him better. This whole "wait it out" theory does not work with me. At all. Daddy was going to work with a heavy heart, knowing the day I was in for. He would come home and I would still have dinner for him (what a good wife I am!) but he would sit with Little Man while I showered instead of eating. The first time my Little Man pooped the soup I finally gave him was celebrated more than his first steps. I swear if I had ballons left over from his birthday I would have blown them up and made a cake. Come on- FOOD WAS KEPT IN! Long enough to pass through his system! Shit, I almost called the family in Puerto Rico to tell them of this accomplishment! I don't even think I will be this happy when he poops in the potty.

That's it for now.
Thanks again for your well-wishes. Much appreciated.