metaphortunate son (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
metaphortunate) wrote2012-02-12 08:32 pm
metaphortunate) wrote2012-02-12 08:32 pm
Entry tags:
that sucked so bad
Well, this has been the worst weekend in a long, long while.
It started off relatively innocuously on Thursday morning, with the Junebug screaming in a small puddle. Not great, and not every day, but, you know, not unheard of as a way to wake up. Except that the puddle wasn't under his butt; it was under his head. And it turned out to be vomit. And he barfed again before I fed him. And then after I fed him he sicked it all right back up. And that was when we realized he couldn't go to daycare.
(That sounds callous, but it's hard to realize that a baby who as soon as you pick him up is smiling and cooing and waving his little arms about is actually sick. If he's crying, or droopy, or lethargic, or feverish, then we know; but no, he was up for the boot & rally, ready to party.)
Well that was frustrating, especially since I had a deadline at work but Mr. E also particularly needed to go in and it was my turn. So I stayed home with the Junebug, and took him to the doctor in the afternoon, more or less as a formality since he had puked for the last time at around 11. Though he had gone through five changes of clothing by then. Suddenly we felt less overstocked. Only when we got to the doctor it turned out he had HIVES on his little back - hives! And we had washed him in the morning because of the puke, so I knew he didn't have them then! and the doc said this was a GI virus, yes quite contagious, no he certainly wouldn't be going back to daycare until Monday....expect diarrhea within a few hours. So that was great news.
We never did see any real diarrhea from him. But Friday morning both Mr. E and I woke up feeling queasy. Still, I needed to go into work, and Mr. E was going to stay with the baby, so I got dressed. And I ate a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. I have rarely regretted anything more in my life. Then right before I left Mr. E said "This is the greenest poop I have ever seen! You have to see this!" So I went into the baby's room and truly, that was such amazing poop that I immediately had to go throw up. That was when I began regretting the peanut butter sandwich.
I tried to work from home, because there was stuff that needed to get done before the weekend, but for a while I was not getting much done between bathroom visits and when I started shivering with fever Mr. E pointed out that I needed to go to bed. So I called and left a message that I wasn't going to get my stuff done. I hope they got it, I never got an email or a phone call. Haven't really been in shape to worry about it till tonight. Then I spent much of the rest of the day between shivering in bed and rushing to the bathroom at desperate intervals. I would have taken Advil or Tylenol except that I couldn't keep down a sip of water all day. Let me tell you, you can get goddamn thirsty when you nurse a baby and you can't drink anything all day. I did get Mr. E to feed him one bottle.
Unfortunately about six hours after me Mr. E followed me down the rabbit hole and from then on we had to take turns sleeping and dully keeping an eye on our frustrated little guy. If he were two or three I think this would have been the best weekend of his life, as we would have been completely unable to stop him from doing anything. Take scissors to the TV cords? Throw rice around the living room like confetti? Sure, have a party! Unfortunately he is too young to even move his body around much and is reliant on us for opportunities of exploring and fun so the fact that for three whole days his parents have sat around and stared at him and refused to even pick him up much has been frustrating and depressing and I feel so sad for him. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Because that was the other thing: I have an old back injury from weightlifting, and for the past month or so it's been doing a really unpleasant slow burn, but Saturday evening it went acute - probably from the virus muscle ache effect - and I was not really able to pick up the baby or in fact do much of anything except lie down. It's been slowly easing off since then and I've been trying to stretch my hamstrings to help, but damn, last night and today have not been fun.
Oh right, and of course this weekend was the weekend the baby decided he was teething and only wanted to have two naps, and not very long ones either.
I feel like I never really appreciated how nice it was to not have a baby when I was sick, back when I was sick when I didn't have a baby. If I needed to sleep all day, I slept all day! I didn't have to get up and entertain a tiny guy who looks at me with tragic eyes and then wails if I ignore him! I didn't have to nurse anyone while shivering with fever! I could just sleep, for hours upon delicious hours!
I don't think I've been this sick since the Y2K bug that I got from sitting in the Hot Tub at the End of the World. I remember I took the train to Boston, because I was staying at J and PJ's place, and they went out to church, and I stayed in and slept, and then they came back to find everything in their bedroom piled on top of their Furby. Because they had a Furby, that somehow got woken up while they were away. And in my feverish state I couldn't figure out how to turn it off and I couldn't stand listening to it. So I piled things on top of it until I couldn't hear it anymore and went back to bed. But you can't do that with a baby.
It's Sunday night and we're mostly feeling better and are planning to go back to work and daycare tomorrow. I'm kind of terrified of the idea, though. And now I'm going to bed.
It started off relatively innocuously on Thursday morning, with the Junebug screaming in a small puddle. Not great, and not every day, but, you know, not unheard of as a way to wake up. Except that the puddle wasn't under his butt; it was under his head. And it turned out to be vomit. And he barfed again before I fed him. And then after I fed him he sicked it all right back up. And that was when we realized he couldn't go to daycare.
(That sounds callous, but it's hard to realize that a baby who as soon as you pick him up is smiling and cooing and waving his little arms about is actually sick. If he's crying, or droopy, or lethargic, or feverish, then we know; but no, he was up for the boot & rally, ready to party.)
Well that was frustrating, especially since I had a deadline at work but Mr. E also particularly needed to go in and it was my turn. So I stayed home with the Junebug, and took him to the doctor in the afternoon, more or less as a formality since he had puked for the last time at around 11. Though he had gone through five changes of clothing by then. Suddenly we felt less overstocked. Only when we got to the doctor it turned out he had HIVES on his little back - hives! And we had washed him in the morning because of the puke, so I knew he didn't have them then! and the doc said this was a GI virus, yes quite contagious, no he certainly wouldn't be going back to daycare until Monday....expect diarrhea within a few hours. So that was great news.
We never did see any real diarrhea from him. But Friday morning both Mr. E and I woke up feeling queasy. Still, I needed to go into work, and Mr. E was going to stay with the baby, so I got dressed. And I ate a peanut butter sandwich for breakfast. I have rarely regretted anything more in my life. Then right before I left Mr. E said "This is the greenest poop I have ever seen! You have to see this!" So I went into the baby's room and truly, that was such amazing poop that I immediately had to go throw up. That was when I began regretting the peanut butter sandwich.
I tried to work from home, because there was stuff that needed to get done before the weekend, but for a while I was not getting much done between bathroom visits and when I started shivering with fever Mr. E pointed out that I needed to go to bed. So I called and left a message that I wasn't going to get my stuff done. I hope they got it, I never got an email or a phone call. Haven't really been in shape to worry about it till tonight. Then I spent much of the rest of the day between shivering in bed and rushing to the bathroom at desperate intervals. I would have taken Advil or Tylenol except that I couldn't keep down a sip of water all day. Let me tell you, you can get goddamn thirsty when you nurse a baby and you can't drink anything all day. I did get Mr. E to feed him one bottle.
Unfortunately about six hours after me Mr. E followed me down the rabbit hole and from then on we had to take turns sleeping and dully keeping an eye on our frustrated little guy. If he were two or three I think this would have been the best weekend of his life, as we would have been completely unable to stop him from doing anything. Take scissors to the TV cords? Throw rice around the living room like confetti? Sure, have a party! Unfortunately he is too young to even move his body around much and is reliant on us for opportunities of exploring and fun so the fact that for three whole days his parents have sat around and stared at him and refused to even pick him up much has been frustrating and depressing and I feel so sad for him. Hopefully tomorrow will be better.
Because that was the other thing: I have an old back injury from weightlifting, and for the past month or so it's been doing a really unpleasant slow burn, but Saturday evening it went acute - probably from the virus muscle ache effect - and I was not really able to pick up the baby or in fact do much of anything except lie down. It's been slowly easing off since then and I've been trying to stretch my hamstrings to help, but damn, last night and today have not been fun.
Oh right, and of course this weekend was the weekend the baby decided he was teething and only wanted to have two naps, and not very long ones either.
I feel like I never really appreciated how nice it was to not have a baby when I was sick, back when I was sick when I didn't have a baby. If I needed to sleep all day, I slept all day! I didn't have to get up and entertain a tiny guy who looks at me with tragic eyes and then wails if I ignore him! I didn't have to nurse anyone while shivering with fever! I could just sleep, for hours upon delicious hours!
I don't think I've been this sick since the Y2K bug that I got from sitting in the Hot Tub at the End of the World. I remember I took the train to Boston, because I was staying at J and PJ's place, and they went out to church, and I stayed in and slept, and then they came back to find everything in their bedroom piled on top of their Furby. Because they had a Furby, that somehow got woken up while they were away. And in my feverish state I couldn't figure out how to turn it off and I couldn't stand listening to it. So I piled things on top of it until I couldn't hear it anymore and went back to bed. But you can't do that with a baby.
It's Sunday night and we're mostly feeling better and are planning to go back to work and daycare tomorrow. I'm kind of terrified of the idea, though. And now I'm going to bed.
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