After managing to avoid many of the nasty bugs that has been going around for the last couple of months Emily finally succumbed to a tummy bug yesterday. As hubby was away in Palmerston North overnight and I also have a 8 week old to look after this was not such good timing on Emily's part. Never mind these things happen.
The day began with a 6.30am wake up call from Emily, who had got herself up out of bed and was standing in the kitchen crying for Mummy. I hurl myself out of bed and zip out of my room as fast as I could with the intent to tell her to shhhhh so as to not wake the baby. I open my mouth and before I could utter any sound Emily's mouth also opens and she vomits all over the kitchen floor. Nice! I sprint to the plastic cupboard and pull out the first bowl I lay my hands on and thrust it under her chin in time to catch the next wave. After Emily gives me the all clear signal, I scoop her up and gently deposit her on the couch with a clean bowl, blanket and drink of water while I get the fun task of cleaning up the mess. After 10 minutes and several muttered promises of what hubby will have to do to make up for not being here to help, the kitchen is clean again and I can start to wake up instead of functioning on autopilot. Coffee that's what I need and lots of it, oh yeah I'm breastfeeding can only have two cups a day. Damn it this will be a looooong day!
Emily spends the morning snuggled on the couch watching many children's movies, then round two hits. As I sit feeding the baby, I spy out the corner of my eye Emily sit bolt upright and go pale. I uncermoniously dump (gently) the baby in the rocker and lunge for the bowl just getting there in time. Emily hates the bowl and a struggle ensues with her trying to push the bowl away and me trying to make sure each wave of vomit makes it into the bowl. When the retching subsides again my polite daughter turns to me and says "thank you Mummy". Naw even when she's ill she still has nice manners. It was at this point that I realise that in my haste to get to Emily and the bowl I had not managed to put my breast away and was on complete display. Thank goodness no one decided to pop in at that moment to visit!
The third and final wave occured about 20 minutes after I had risked allowing her to have a lemonade popsicle. We hadn't had any more vomiting for about 5 hours so I decided it was safe enough to try and get something in her wee tummy other than water. Meh wrong idea! As my wee girl sat cuddled into me the next wave hits without warning. Emily manages to get it all over her pjs, all over my trackies and down the couch with one single retch, pretty impressive in my opinion! I scoop her up and lurch over to the bowl (which I had stupidly left on the coffee table far from where we were sitting) and manage to catch the next retch. Again we have a silent battle with the bowl. When it was over I start to peel the pjs off my pale, trembling wee girl, joking with her about how she had managed to get it all over Mummy too. I thought this would lighten the mood and help her cheer up a bit but no, it had the opposite effect in which she starts to sob. I cuddle her to me thinking she was crying because she wasn't feeling well when I hear her say in a quiet voice "I sorry Mummy", I tell her it was okay and she has nothing to be sorry about but she says "I sorry I throwed up on your pants". I wish a hole would open up and swallow me, I feel awful how could I make my wee girl feel guilty about being sick on me! I finally convince her I wasn't upset and she allows me to get her into some new pjs and snuggle her back on the couch.
When bed time rolls around I am so knackered and on edge I thank the stars Emily goes down easily. Mike owes me big time!!
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