Tuesday, September 13, 2011
This post is about puke. Don't read it if you don't want to know details on our family's first encounter with it.  Thankfully for you, this is one of those rare posts without a picture. If you want to know the latest update on pregnancy, you need to scroll all the way to the bottom.

I hate puke. Hate it. Ryan hates puke. Hates it. Not that anyone likes puke, but I think I have a particular phobia to it. I'd rather lay around all day/night with the most gut wrenching pain for hours on end before I attempt to actually throw up. Seeing it, hearing it and smelling it make me want to gag. We have discussed a few times how we would handle our first "vomit" with Henry (aside from all the spit ups as a baby, because that just isn't the same) since we both equally have a strong dislike for it. I can count on one hand the amount of times I've thrown up as an adult. Likewise for Ryan.

Our Sunday was a typical day. Ryan and I spent the day organizing, cleaning and doing general baby prep stuff. Henry had a normal day. Didn't eat much lunch, had a decent snack and a pretty typical supper. Went to bed as normal. During our cleaning rampage, Ryan removed the video monitor from Henry's room (because he said we need to ween ourselves off of it) and put it in its permanent spot in Claire's nursery. I decided I couldn't live without any connection to Henry during the night, so I put his old sound-only monitor in his room so we could have something. This, I later learned, was quite the good idea.

As I worked in the basement that night on photography sessions, I thought to myself that this old monitor is really loud, was picking up a lot of background noise, and it seemed that Henry was moving around and making noise more than usual, but didn't think much of it. Sometimes it takes him a long time to fall asleep, but not usually. And since there was no video, I didn't know how much moving around he was doing and if he was actually sleeping.

Fast forward to 11:30pm and I finally go to bed. I toss and turn like usual and probably fall asleep around 12am.

Fast forward to 12:50am. I wake up to Henry coughing really loudly in the monitor so I direct my attention to his noises which then almost sound like choking, followed by blood curdling screams. I immediately wake Ryan up to run to his room (because I simply can't move that fast). 1.5 seconds later I hear "He puked!!!". Before Ryan had said it, I knew that's what I had just heard.

There was puke everywhere. Mattress, pillow, bed (every nook and cranny), the floor, the wall, the wall outlet and behind the baseboard behind his bed.

Ryan rushed Henry into the bathroom and decided that I would tend to Henry and he would go clean up the mess (which he openly admitted later that he choose this scenario thinking the cleanup would be the easier job).

Sadly, I think Henry had puked more than once (with the first time being in his sleep or something--as I can't imagine he wouldn't have screamed the first time like he did the second time). How do I know he puked more than once? He was covered in puke (shirt, face, hair, etc.) and not all of it was fresh. Broke my heart.

As much as I stated that I hate vomit and everything that it entails, as my poor little boy stood there scared and screaming with puke everywhere, all I wanted to do was hug and kiss him and make it all better. It's so different when it's your own child. And Ryan jumped right in and cleaned up that mess no problem too. Thank goodness for good team work that night.

I gave him a quick bath, fresh jammies, and we laid out blankets, towels, pillows and a bucket on our bedroom floor. He actually seemed in better spirits pretty quickly and gave me a very enthusiastic "MMM!!" when I gave him his first sip of pedialyte (thank goodness we just so happened to have a bottle in the house).

He wound up puking about 5 more times until 6am that morning. None of the times after the bedroom incident amounted to more than a tablespoon or two. Neither Ryan or I slept. Ryan tried to since he had to be at work extra early, and then we switched since I couldn't fall asleep knowing Henry was going to puke and me sitting on the floor watching him got uncomfortable really quickly. Although I still had a hard time sleeping up on the bed knowing Henry was still going to throw up. Ryan woke up Bumpa Tom before he left for work and I went into the other room and maybe got 45 extra minutes of sleep. It was quite the rough morning.

Henry didn't throw up all day on Monday, but was a bit tired and had a slight fever. For some reason after not getting sick all day Monday he threw up one more time around 7:30pm. Since we didn't know if he was finished or not, we definitely didn't want to put him back in his bed and have a repeat of Sunday night. Thankfully, Bumpa Tom offered to stay downstairs with Henry on his makeshift bed of blankets through the night so mommy and daddy could get some sleep. Henry slept pretty much through the night, didn't eat much today, but was in great spirits all day and even played outside. So it seems like he had a good day and is over this little sickness.

The unfortunate part of all of this (aside from how incredibly sad it is to see your child like this) is that if I get it (which could be quite possible since I kissed Henry and shared spoons and water bottles with him all weekend) I could easily get dehydrated, and if I get dehydrated, my doctor fears that that will easily push me into labor. On Monday's follow up appointment I was 1cm already (up from 0 on Friday night--so these contractions ARE doing something). I'm still getting the contractions frequently as well. As it stands now, it doesn't look like Claire will make it until October 10th, but only time will tell. All I want is to make it to 37 weeks.

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