I started writing this post over a week ago, the day after Baby Girl’s first birthday. It was a lovely little post, giving myself & the Other Half a pat on the back for making it through the first year alive, well & seemingly undamaged. (Baby Girl also.)
But then came Baby Girl’s first tummy bug.
She had been difficult since about the Monday evening, not wanting her dinner, throwing it around the room. I had just put this down to the usual, or maybe teething (her canines are coming through) or perhaps the first hints of stroppy toddlerness shining through.
By Wednesday evening, I was shattered. Baby Girl had been needy and difficult for three days. I hadn’t managed to get any work done & had missed the deadlines for a couple of job applications; I just couldn’t get anything done.
Unfortunately, because I’d had some work on last week, I wasn’t necessarily as on the ball Mama-wise as I might usually have been, missing the first few signs that this was more than just Baby Girl being a stroppy madam.
At music on the Wednesday morning, she sat by the door & winged for most of the class until finally I gave in & we left early. Baby Girl loves music. She never wants to leave early. This should have been a major red flag.
On Thursday – tired, exasperated and frustrated that I wasn’t able to even make a cup of tea without Baby Girl clinging to my leg and whining (flag two) – we decamped to my mom’s. She starts a new job after Easter, so my time with free childcare at the drop of a hat is nearing an end. Thought I’d better take advantage while I still can!
Nina is her favourite person in the whole world so I felt a bit better that Baby Girl wasn’t even behaving for her. Of course, if I’d been paying proper attention, this would have been red flag number three…
Mom popped out for an hour that evening. Dinner went surprisingly well; chicken noodles, tomato sauce, red peppers & a plum to finish. Baby Girl ate the lot. (In hindsight, I so wish she hadn’t.)
Then the crying started.
We went in the living room but Baby Girl didn’t want to play. She just wanted to sit in my lap & cry & scream. Finally, red flag number four, I realised something was wrong.
She started burning up so we stood by the window talking about what we could see, trying to calm down (this usually does the trick). She started wretching in my arms.
There’s a very large, expensive rug between us & the hallway with nice wooden floors that leads to the bathroom. What do I do?
Baby Girl was sick, only a little, into my hand. Oh motherhood. The joys you bring.
I dashed across the rug, still holding Baby Girl & a handful of sick & deposited her onto the tiled bathroom floor. I rinsed my hand & grabbed the wipes. The crying continued as Baby Girl got redder & redder in the face. I started trying to take off her tights and vest when suddenly round two started. All over the floor, bright orange – there’s that yummy tomato sauce.
Suddenly a foul smell filled my nostrils. Oh good, engaging both ends Baby Girl. Lovely.
As I whipped off her vest, the wretching started again.
And this is how it went for about 30 minutes. It was all I could do to mop up the previous round before she started again. She was covered. The floor was covered. I, somewhat miraculously, was not.
Poor Baby Girl was absolutely beside herself. When my mom returned home, only about an hour and a half later she was exhausted and lay limply on my chest (I’d wiped her down).
She’s barely eaten since then – which I can kind of understand – until yesterday when she finally started showing interest in more than half a yogurt or a few bites of pear. She couldn’t even manage a full bottle until yesterday.
Friday and Monday night were horrendous, with Baby Girl waking near on every thirty minutes. I can see why ‘they’ use sleep deprivation as a form of torture. I was delirious with exhaustion & on Sunday woke up with a fluey cold myself.
So all in all, it’s been a slow start to Baby Girl’s second year in the world. But Baby Girl seems to be on the mend.
But I feel I earned a Mama Badge here. It’s been a tough couple of days. She’s still not 100% herself – no doubt now she’s coming down with my fluey thing (great). But for now, I’m just going to sit here, sip my hot honey & lemon as my lemsip takes effect & enjoy the fact the sick bug is over.
As my Mama would say; “in the words of Scarlett O’Hara, tomorrow is another day.”