It’s slightly post apocalyptic in our house today. The morning after the night before you were hit with a stomach bug. There are sheets and PJ’s and bears being washed, surfaces being anti-bacted and schools being phoned. Without the chaos surrounding you, you would assume you were fine. You are your normal loud and hungry self, and are more concerned that you might be missing out on doing the letter H at school today. You have already requested that I phone your teacher and ask her not to do until you are back at school.
I often wondered before having you how I would cope with my children vomiting. I thought it would make me run for the hills screaming, but it doesn’t. I just want to make you better. You didn’t break me into the world of childhood vomiting gently.
The first time you were 13 months old and you did it in spectacular style. In Next. I am to this day amazed by how much could come out of one small person. I was the one holding you so most of it went over me. And of course it was the one time I ventured out of the house without my change bag as we were only going to one shop (rookie mistake never again to be repeated). To say I was covered would be an understatement, but I didn’t care,
I didn’t care about the shop floor now covered with your vomit, I didn’t care about the people staring at me as I carried you back to the car, I didn’t care that I had to strip off in the car park (In November) and drive home in my bra. All I cared about was getting you home. You were so pale and quiet. I put you down for a nap in your nursery and I sat and watched you sleep, too afraid to leave you.
One day if you become a parent you will understand how scary it is the first time your child projectiles. Once you had recovered Daddy took the ladies in Next a box of chocolates, and it took Mummy quite a while to show her face in there again!
You were 3 the next time a sickness bug got you. You had been complaining of a tummy ache, Daddy had bathed you and you were sat on his lap in your bedroom having cuddles before bed. I had just finished getting ready as I was going out and came in your room to say goodnight. I sat on your floor and you walked over to me and promptly vomited in my lap. I yelled at Daddy to get a bucket, Daddy stood looking round your room frozen to the spot and you screamed.
Your poor little face, you didn’t have a clue what was happening to you and you were terrified. You sobbed and sobbed for me to make it stop. Daddy rushed you to the bathroom where the vomiting continued, I stripped (there seems to be a pattern here) and then came to help Daddy. It took us so long to calm you down. You were terrified of being sick again, you kept saying sorry for making my dress all dirty, and you kept telling us how horrible it tasted. It took lots of cuddles to calm you down, but it took days to convince you that you were ok, you were so scared of being sick again.
Last night was the third time you have had a sickness bug. You were sick in your bed and called for us to help you. Daddy stripped the bed whist you sat on my lap and continued to vomit in the bucket I was holding (notice how Daddy and I are becoming more professional at dealing with this). You were calmer this time, more matter of fact about things. You told me you didn’t like being sick, you looked in the bucket and asked if that was your food, but most of all you were concerned about the fact that bear had to go in the washing machine. (You weren’t alone with your concern, that bear has had 5 years of loving and is somewhat threadbare. I had visions of him emerging from the wash with a limb missing – he didn’t, bear was fine).
As I stroked your clammy head I secretly enjoyed the cuddle. If I could have been sick for you I would have, but you seem so big nowadays it’s sometimes nice to remember you need me for more than food provisions.
There are lots of perks to being your Mummy, being vomited on is not one of them, but it is a privilege to be the one who can give you a kiss and a cuddle to make it all better.
I won’t ever run for the hills when you are sick. I don’t mind cleaning up the mess (or myself) because before too long you will be going into the bathroom and closing the door to do your vomiting in private. One day you will be coming home from the pub and experiencing a self-inflicted kind of stomach bug! On that day I will have to offer a lecture instead of sympathy. (If Daddy lectures you ask him what happened in Jongleurs on Mummy’s birthday).
But right now I have all the hugs and kisses you need.
Get well soon big man and thanks for not vomiting on me this time!
Love Mummy xxx