The lows of motherhood

Because one child throwing up and pooping everywhere is not enough, God has seen it fit to bless me with yet another child who is throwing up. Lucky me! It started at 3am last night, when Morgan came into our bedroom, very upset and crying that she had thrown up. I immediately jump out of bed and run into the guest room where she's been sleeping since Lance has been working on her ceiling. Sure enough, there's a big puddle of vomit on the bed. I'm trying to comfort her and also get things cleaned up. I call for Lance's help and then escort her into the bathroom, where she kneels down in front of the toilet and starts heaving. I get a hair tie and tie her hair back, rubbing her back all the while telling her that it's going to be okay.

Now, I consider myself a pretty strong person. I've been there for a lot of people through a lot of situations. But I've found my kryptonite, and it's watching my child begging for the pain to stop. Crying, moaning and screaming out about the pain in her belly. I just started sobbing and told Lance that I couldn't watch it. I felt horrible, but I knew that if I was that upset, I would only upset her more. So, Lance went into the bathroom with her to comfort her while I got myself together. Once I had it together, and she had quit moaning and screaming out, we switched again and while Lance changed the sheets, I sat on the bathroom floor with my first born, rubbing her back while her listless body laid on the bath rug.

This is too much! When she seemed to be done vomiting for the time being and the sheets were all changed, I asked her if she wanted to lay in bed. She said she did and begged me to continue rubbing her back to keep her mind off of her tummy. I would have rubbed her back all night. It didn't take long and she was out. I sat there for a few more minutes, watching my child. Glad the sleep and overcome her and sad for the pain she was in. Finally, I got up and went back into our room to go back to bed. Except I couldn't sleep. I was too worried about her throwing up again. And would I hear her? Would she be moaning again? And what happens when Bennett gets up in the morning and he has pooped everywhere? How am I going to handle two sick kids on my own?

As predicted, when Bennett woke up, it was in a puddle of poop. Poor baby. He immediately got a bath thanks to Daddy and I checked on Morgan. She was in much better spirits, very excited that she had slept the rest of the night without throwing up. I was happy to see her feeling better and we tread cautiously with breakfast for both of the kids. Bananas and toast were in order. Lance ran to the store to restock on bananas and powerade before work and I got settled in for yet another day at home with sick kids. Both of the kids were acting completely normal. Bennett's diapers were looking more normal and Morgan told me she felt good enough to go to school. With some gifts that I had planned to deliver this morning staring me in the face, I asked Morgan if she felt good enough to take a ride in the car. She told me she did. So, I packed the kids up in the car, went through the Starbucks drive through to get a non-fat decaf latte for my favorite pregnant person and then we headed over to Melissa's house to drop off her birthday presents. When we got off on her exit, Morgan fell asleep in the car. I left the engine running, ran up to the door, put the presents and coffee on the doorstep and then knocked on the door. Melissa answered as we were pulling away and I waved a Happy Birthday to her.

I should have known not to push it since Morgan had fallen asleep. See, she's notorious for getting motion sickness when falling asleep in the car in the mornings when she was two and a half, I couldn't feed her breakfast before heading to work (a 3o minute drive) because she would barf it up when she woke up as we were getting off the Interstate. But, I had a movie that was due back to Blockbuster the previous day, so I stopped by on my way home, a five minute detour. Sure enough, about two minutes from home, Morgan wakes up and starts puking everywhere. She's crying and telling me that she's sorry for thinking that she was not going to throw up again. I pull over, telling her that it's okay. I look through my "emergency bag" for something for her to throw up into, but it's been so long since I had to worry about this, there was nothing. I tell her to just throw up where ever she needs to and she continues to do say. I got a bottle of water from the bag, some wipes and give them to her to clean up with and sip as needed. She keeps apologizing to me for throwing up in the car. I keep telling her that it's okay. That I know that she isn't doing it on purpose and that I'm sorry that I took her in the car and that I also didn't bring anything for her to throw up in. Poor baby.

We drive the remaining two minutes home, I take Bennett into the house so that I can tend to Morgan. I get her out of the car, strip out everything she's puked on, take her into the garage where she strips down and then she goes and gets in the shower. I am hosing off her car seat, the car mat, the car seat mat, her clothes, EVERYTHING. Nasty.

Just as I'm done, I go inside and am greeted by a smell that I've come to know over the past few days. Obviously, Bennett has a nasty diaper. Not only that, but it's DISGUSTING. EVERYWHERE. So, he gets a bath. Once the kids are all bathed, I put on a movie for them to watch while I feed Bennett lunch (Morgan's not eating). Bennett eats a little of his lunch, Morgan eats some toast and before I know it it's nap time. Which is what I've been waiting for all morning. I get the kids down for their naps and I lay on the couch and pray for sleep to come quick. I know I'll need my strength to handle the afternoon and evening.

I was supposed to work the Crab Feed fundraiser for the school tonight. But, in an effort to keep my husband from getting this nasty bug (we have plans to go OUT tomorrow night!), I opted out of the volunteering and decided to stay home and finish taking care of the kids for the night.

And here I sit, totally done. Done with the sick kids. Done with the puke and poop. Done with my kids and I being stuck at home sick. Done hearing them call out to me in pain. Done being the one and only to two highly needy children.