Babycakes

Emma is sick. Reeeaaalllly sick. Throwing up, misreble sick. And we weren't there to help her through the first bouts of it.

Early this morning (around 5am) I heard her kind of cough-choking, and Jared jumped up to check on her. My definition of "check the baby" is to go into the room, hold my fingers near her nostrils to make sure she's breathing, cover her up again and blow her a kiss. Jae's definition is to peek in through the door and listen for crying. Neither way of checking the baby is better than the other...usually. Usually, no crying or rustling blankets means a peacefully sleeping Emma.

But not last night.

Last night warrented the Mommy Check, which didn't happen because Jared is too lovely to let his pregnant wife get out of bed, knowing full well that if and when I do get out of bed I cannot fall back asleep. I would give anything to have dragged my big butt out of bed last night because apparently, while we were all fast asleep, Emma vomited all over herself. Repeatedly. The second time I heard her cough-choking I told Jared to really check her, and he did Daddy Check again and declared her ok.

That was until she really woke up this morning and Jared told me to go back to sleep. 2 minutes later he opened the door and said, "Kier, she threw up all over" in this calm yet scared voice. I popped out of bed and she gave me a tired little smile, and immediately I smelled it. Puke city. Her crib, blankets, sheets, pj's, hair, arms, legs, everything covered in puke. I mean, it worked it's nasty way up her pant legs! And down her pj shirt! It was caked on her little face and in her hair, and immediately my stomach sank into my socks and I almost started crying at the sight of her. She didn't even cry while puking, that's what gets me. She just coughed and threw up and stayed asleep and rolled around in for 4 hours.

We immediately filled the tub and I stripped her down and wrapped her up in a towel while Jae got everything ready. While she soaked in the tub (actually smiling and giggling a little) I took all of the blankets and things outside to shake out the dried stuff, then ran into the laundry room to rinse all of the other stuff, then stuffed it all in the washer and ran back upstairs to see how she was doing. It was about 20 minutes later, and she was no longer giggling. Jared went to the store to pick up Pedialyte and other necessities (chocolate covered donut and Milky Way bar for me - really, truly a necessity at 24 weeks) and Emma and I snuggled on the couch and watched Big Big World and Sesame Street.

When Jae got back and Emma was settled I said to him, "I have never felt such deep guilt in my entire life", and he just nodding his sad head in agreement. Of course we didn't know that she was throwing up in there - from the peek in, everything seemed normal. She didn't whine or cry, just stayed asleep. But I can't help but kick myself at the idea of our sweet girl feeling so awful and being alone, rolling around in vomit.

Please tell me that this has happened to someone else.

Now, a few hours later, she's thrown up about 5 more times and has nothing left in her little belly. We tried a cracker before she started puking again but ruled that out as a bad idea for now. She won't take Pedialyte or water but we're trying anyway. Oh, and she got this bug from her cousin Joshie, who got it from his friend Charlotte. Char played at his house on Monday morning, then we went over Monday afternoon. Poor Josh spent the entire night and morning throwing up, so Emma's not alone in this. I had to cancel a playdate/dinner night with our friends Kelly and Joshua (Emma's other Josh) and feel bad about that, but I definitely wouldn't want them getting anything. Plus, I'm 100% sure Em will be on the couch watching Baby Einstein for the rest of the day. I hope she's okay by tonight because I tend to have a really sensitive gag reflex these days and with Jared gone to work at 4:20pm I don't want to be throwing up while Emma throws up through the evening. No matter what, though, she's sleeping in bed with us tonight. I just feel better that way. I regret not being the one to check on her this morning, and I really don't want that happening again.

One more regret? That I pushed the vegetable soup last night for snack. Looking back, the chicken noodle may not have left such stains.

Labels: Emma, illness, parent-guilt