Three down

Owen's behavior last week was DEFINITELY SICK creeping up on us. Sleeping in until 11am everyday, not standing up in his crib, whimpering, OH AND BARFING ON ME. Poor little one was fighting off a nasty bug, which finally hit me (duh) at 6am on Saturday morning when I was having all kinds of strange dreams. I dreamt that we were running errands and I kept having to find the bathroom in each store... to throw up (You know, like one of those dreams where you dream you are peeing in this huge white porcelain toilet and it feels OOOOOH SO RELAXING and then you realize you are THIS CLOSE to pissing the bed? Apparently that works with vomiting too.)

CUE WAKE UP AND RUN FOR IT.

Oh god, and it was Jeremy's day off so I was trying to be quiet so not to wake him. In between losing it and crying (yes, I still cry. Don't judge.) I did what any other Mama in my situation would do -- I took a pregnancy test.

Negative. Whew!

And this is how it went for most of the morning. Thankfully, (because he was sick) Owen slept in until 10:30 which allowed for me to crawl back in bed for an hour. When I heard him, I went to change his diaper. I had the diaper fastened but as I was putting one leg back in the jammies, I gagged. I ran to to find Jeremy with Owen flailing around in my arms half-naked. I don't even remember handing him over before I collapsed on the ground and crawled into the kitchen to find the trash can. Alien exorcisms sound better than I did, I was actually embarrassed that my husband had to hear me (let alone come and switch out the trash bags for me).

I sat on the kitchen floor while Jeremy ran across the street to the convenient store to get some crackers and gatorade. Owen sat in his high chair and waved at me, turning his head to the side to match my pathetic positioning on the floor.  It was adorable.

Luckily, we still had some of the anti nausea meds left over from the last time I was sick, which helped enough for me to get some fluids down because O wanted to nurse. Jeremy had to go in to work for a few hours (on his day off, I know...) so I had to hold down the fort. The second the door shut Owen started screaming. I tried to feed him lunch but he hasn't wanted to eat solids in almost a week now. A few bites here and there and then refuses. He ate a little yogurt and some fruit for me and as I walked into the nursery to put him down for a nap - he threw up all over both of us.

I know I have been so incredibly lucky that this was our first actual illness and Owen is almost a year old but it was a new parenting low for me. I thought July was bad when it was just me that was sick. Nope. both of us sick is even worse. How do people DO THIS? And how on earth would you prevent yourself from getting something like this from your kid? I was thinking to myself that Owen isn't going to actually throw up in a toilet for like five more years (if I'm lucky).

Jeremy finally came home and took care of Owen so that I could rest. Our sweet neighbors saw my "mama-baby barfing" post on Facebook and called to make sure Jeremy was home and see if they could bring us anything. Sooo sweet, but HELL NO. I wouldn't let anyone in during this horror show. As we were going to sleep that night I said, "I can't believe I got this gross bug from Owen."  and Jeremy says, "I know, I was really hoping you were pregnant."

4am Sunday morning Jeremy left for his first day on a new service and while he was talking with a patient - HE PUKED IN HIS MOUTH and suffered through the 30+hr overnight call (see what happens to you when you wish pregnancy on your puking wife?)

We're on the mend now, but none of us have much of an appetite which is beginning to show on Owen. He's definitely lost a little weight so if he doesn't start eating soon I'm going to have to call the doctor. Thankfully, he's still nursing.

Yesterday we just played inside and Owen went all bone, thugs and harmony on me. Oh, and he claps now. And says some version of doggie/ducky (gac-gnnnn). I think we'll keep him.