Today is the day after Baby Bird's first birthday. Baby Bird felt the wrath of his very first stomach bug starting Monday morning.
Babies with colds are sad.
Babies who are teething are sad.
Babies who are throwing up and don't understand what is happening to them are VERY VERY sad. Like, the saddest thing I've ever had to deal with. We just got through 48 hours of stomach bug with Baby Bird, and although my fingers are crossed that he's over it, I am not optimistic.
Thank goodness I am still breastfeeding. Nothing solid stayed down so we gave up trying after he ate four tiny bites of toast and then puked them up ten minutes later. The next morning we tried banana, but it came back up seconds later. At least he has been keeping small, frequent nursing sessions down.
We've had laundry on the go all day because each time we put a load in, the poor little man throws up again. Mama, Daddy, and Bird have each gone through several outfits, bedding, a series of receiving blankets, and various other little things. Luckily I had enough sense to cover our couch in sheets and towels - you never know exactly why you keep all those old blankets and sheets around until your child gets the stomach flu. Then it becomes crystal clear.
I am hovering over each diaper change to determine if and how much he has peed. I'm so afraid of dehydration. The first day was particularly rough in terms of pee-scoping, but yesterday was much better and so far today is even better.
The saddest part is that yesterday was his first birthday. K had taken Monday and Tuesday off to celebrate with the family, and we had planned some sweet fun for Bird such as playing at the local indoor play place and shopping for a new book. Instead we were at home surrounded by mountains of laundry, and our trip out was to the doctor. No special birthday meal, no treats, no fun trips out. Not the kind of memories we were keen to make. I take some solace that Bird wouldn't remember his birthday this year, anyway, and he didn't understand. Around 5pm yesterday, K said, "Oh! We haven't sung him Happy Birthday yet," to which I promptly burst into tears. The day wrapped up post-bedtime with me crying after realizing that I never again get to hold my sweet first baby during that first year.
His first birthday party is this weekend, and this stomach big is hanging on longer than I am comfortable with. I personally am still feeling nauseated and I have no appetite, so I'm not optimistic that we're completely out of the woods with Bird yet. I am going to be heartbroken if we have to cancel his birthday party. Please send some major get-well wishes that he recovers in time for me to disinfect the house for Saturday.
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