Last night was a first in our family household. June's been sick before, sickness has affected her sleep before, and Michael and I have learned a thing or two about parental sacrifice, helplessness and heart-breakingness in the past seven months. But last night still felt like a first.
June must have thrown up 20 times last night.
We went through three bed sheets, two mattress covers, one sleep sack, two pairs of pajamas and uncountable towels, wash clothes and wipes. The poor thing was laying in a puddle when we first checked on her after she let out a cry around 10pm. That started a marathon of alternately hugging her, rocking her on my lap and holding her over the bathroom sink as she threw up. Her cries were so sad, so not-understanding-y, so OH-GOD-WHY-ME? that they broke my heart.
In the beginning we were frantic. I was nearly in tears and Michael was sprinting off into the dark house saying "I'll Google things!" He came back with information from Dr. Sears who is and has been my medical crush. A few hours later June was falling asleep in my arms and on my lap, waking up exactly every 20 minutes to heave and vomit a little more. She'd give a whimper and then fall back asleep.
I'd like to caption this photograph (taken from Michael's phone)
"Motherhood: Willingness to Capture Baby Puke in Hand while Not Wearing Pants"
And pretty soon it's almost two am and your mind starts thinking weird things, like maybe it'd be totally reasonable to wear three sweaters at a time if the colors complemented each other and they had different necklines? Dark purple would have to be one of the colors for it to make sense. I'm not really sure where I ended up in this train of thought, except I still agree about the purple?
Eventually June was asleep in her crib. She woke once crying and Michael started to get up to go to her. I facepalmed him while hurdling over his body and sprinted into her room. She was fine. She slept through after that and smiled for her Daddy when he went to get her out of her crib this morning.
The first of many nights spent awake and comforting an ailing child, I'm sure. As Michael said last night, there will be so many more times where June and our other future kids get hurt or are in pain and we will be willing to do anything if it meant we could take it away from them. But we can't, so we just have to keep hugging her close and rocking her and murmuring things in her ear, anything to make those hours pass a little easier. So we will.