Wednesday night I was officially anointed into motherhood.
I know, I know…you’re thinking, “wait a second there Katie, haven’t you been a mother for two and a half years?”
Yes, I suppose I have carried the title with me. I include it in any bios I write. In fact…yup…if you look over to the right there by my smiling face, I include mother in my bio.
But I have carried this title arrogantly. I skipped through the past couple years (ok, clearly if you know my history you know it wasn’t exactly skipping) without knowing what I know now.
Without having experienced what I did the other night.
People? Wednesday night, my baby boy…my sweet little guy…the two and a half year old curly-haired ball of cute that I call my own….
Puked all over my couch with me watching.
And Cort was gone to class.
Why does he wait to throw his bodily fluids around the house until his daddy is gone? WHY?
I would like to say I was more prepared than I thought I would be for the first bout of flu in our house. And I guess in one way I was. But mostly? I had no idea.
Bodily fluids gross me out like no other. Even my own. Seriously. I always said that when Eddie is sick, Cort would have to handle it because there was absolutely no way I could deal with someone else’s vomit. NO WAY. I even pass as many poopy diapers off to him as possible.
I just have a weak stomach and wicked gag/barf reflex.
So last night, when Eddie was standing on the couch talking to me while I finished making his dinner, and suddenly he was throwing up everywhere, you would think I lost it and threw up too.
But no.
I calmly took a towel to him and caught the rest of the huge deluge of partially digested hotdogs and chocolate milk. When he was done, I stood him on the linoleum in the kitchen, stripped his puked on clothes, and put him in a warm bubble bath assuring him the whole time that it was totally ok and that it happens sometimes.
He didn’t cry once.
Just looked at me with fear and confusion.
I wanted to blink and have the smell and huge mess disappear, but instead, Eddie told me all about his boats and the bubbles while I mopped up chunks and puke juice from the couch.
Thankfully we have leather furniture.
Unfortunately the boy got it right in the spot where two cushions meet AND where they meet the back of the couch.
So I pulled it all apart and mopped that up too.
The only fabric spray we had was leftover from when we had the cat (for pet stains), so I sprayed that on the inside of the couch and scrubbed.
After the bath we hunkered down with some crackers and water and just snuggled. Until he told me he wanted the bowl.
So I took his pipey and lamby and set them aside and put the towel and bowl by him. He hung on and within moments all the crackers and water came out.
He kept looking at me with the biggest, saddest eyes filled with confusion and fear. They seemed to beg me to make it stop and help him feel better.
All I could do was rub his back and tell him how brave he was.
He mumbled back to me, “bwave yike daddy?”
Yes, baby. Brave like daddy.
Not one tear escaped his eyes.
I wiped his mouth and he tucked an arm around me. He was exhausted.
I was exhausted.
By a stroke of luck, Cort was able to get out of class way early, and he walked through the door at 8:30pm. He scooped up his limp little boy and rocked him to sleep.
When he came out of the nursery, I broke down.
I was so sad for Eddie. All I wanted to do was go back in that room, pick him up, and hold him while he slept. Like I did when he was a baby.
I wanted to take all that fear away from him.
I never wanted him to have to look at me like that again. I never wanted to feel that helpless again.
And I just cried.
While I handled the actual puke way better than I ever thought, I never expected the emotional upheaval of having a sick child.
I never knew how helpless I would feel.
I never realized that watching your child experience something scary and/or painful is like watching a sort of innocence leave them.
I have read the words of parents of children going through so so SO much scarier and painful things. I have had two and a half years of blissful ignorance.
If this is how shaken up I get when my little guy pukes, what happens if, God forbid, something worse happens? If he brakes something or need surgery or…or…gets really sick.
That night Cort sent me to bed with a Tylenol pm because I couldn’t stop crying.
As my brain fought sleep, that familiar brick of anxiety settled on my chest. Breathing was difficult. My brain was swirling. Tears flowed.
But Cort held my hand, told me I was a wonderful mother and I did everything right, and I sank into a fitful sleep.
I felt so dumb. It was only the flu. It was only a bit of barf.
But I couldn’t shake the way he looked at me.
My heart hurt from that look.
That look turned me into a mother.
A mother anointed by puke.
About Katie
This JUST happened to me last Thursday night, too, with Jackson (who’s almost 2.5). That look in his eyes didn’t leave my memory for days. It’s heartbreaking to see them afraid. You’re a great mother for feeling so much. I hope Eddie feels better soon.
This has brought a tear to my eye! I know how you feel- the first time Eva was sick, she was more confused than upset and I was freaking inside! She is still really calm about it. Poor Luka spent the first year of his life projectile vomiting so he is definitely used to it now!!
XxX
Oh Katie, I got tears in my eyes reading this. I remember that look Eddie gave you, only this time it came to me from when my boy was in the hospital from bronchiolitis. That’s what makes us mothers the love that is so great inside us for these little people that we wish we could scoop up all their confusion and their pain away. Sometimes all we could do is just hold them. Hope Eddie feels better by now. Sending you hugs!
Oh sweets…
puke happens to good moms.
we are never immune.
especially to those sad faces.
don’t let the anxiety run away with that face and spin horrific tales.
if the vision/thought starts with what if, you need to shit kick that in the man meat.
what if’s rarely ever turn into reality.
like almost never. ever.
PS. I can handle all bodily fluids except for poop. It’s my kryptonite.
When that kind of scene happened (who am I kidding? HappeNS), I always stand frozen for a second. And my first thought is, “Oh my who is going to take care of this? Can I run away? This is a mess!”
Then I remember. I’m the mama. I’m going to take care of this.
It’s empowering.
And awful.
And messy.
I hope Eddie feels better now and that you and Cort do, too.
There is nothing quite so bad as trying to appease a sick child. Though, minutes after either of mine puke, because they’re feeling better, they’re actually really, really pleasant.
I believe I was anointed into fatherhood with my first #codebrown. That was nasty . . . and I really don’t want to mention just how many #codebrown issues I’ve had since then. Let’s just say, if the first was a trial by fire, um, by now, I think I’m made of asbestos.
I really, really hope everyone is feeling better now . . . may these days be few & far between in the upcoming years.
I can’t stand bodily fluids, even my own. Yet somehow I’m really good at managing the junk that comes out of my kids.
At 18 months, my daughter was admitted to the hospital for an asthma attack. They had to put an IV in. I will never, ever forget the look on her face of wanting me to make it stop, but I couldn’t. Luckily, they forget those things a lot faster than we do.
“Unfortunately the boy got it right in the spot where two cushions meet AND where they meet the back of the couch.”
How much do you like that couch? ‘Cuz I think you might be able to work that angle. 😉
The first time my little man got sick I was in the worst part of my PPD and I swore he was going to die. I know “that look”. He pulled through, of course, but now when he sneezes even just from dust or something, my mind goes right back to that time. I never want to relive that, ever.
Evelyn hasn’t puked (as she doesn’t eat food yet lol). But, one day over Christmas break, she was soooo sick. I would later discover she had an ear infection. She didn’t really have a fever but she just laid on my chest all day–like when she was a brand new baby. She just laid there, whined a little, slept a lot, but was just staring at me. My poor precious baby.
Good job cleaning up and not puking, too 🙂
I’ll never forget the first time my eldest puked like that- she was strapped into her car seat in the back seat and started gagging on her own vomit. The fear in her eyes is something I will never forget. The first time she had surgery and handing her off to the porter to take her into the OR, the two times my youngest had surgery and we went through the same thing and most recently when I was able to stay in the OR until my son was asleep on the operating table and I had to leave him there. Leave every single one of them knowing someone was about to cut them open and they wouldn’t come and get me until they had woken in recovery. Gawd… the emotions you feel that no one but a mother can understand. I get that. Unfortunately, I’d like to tell you it’s a one time thing – but that whole puke thing. Let’s just say we have a “puke bucket” at my house that makes frequent appearances.
We have a “puke bucket” too! It’s this nasty orange, plastic bowl that I discovered after Halloween one year for like 50 cents. It’s only job now is for barf. Lucky bowl…
Yes! I remember one very long night when my son was 2. After puking & puking he got very thirsty. He would BEG for water: “water! water! sippy! sippy! kitchen! (pronounced “chichen”)” for an hour until I caved and gave him a little water. Then he’d throw up again. And then he’d scream for water. It. Was. Awful.
My second child was a perfectly healthy baby, except for his over active gag reflex. He puked *every day* from 6 months until about 14 months old. Let me just say that squeamishness is easily overcome when you clean up puke daily.
I hate that look. It’s the one that makes me want to sit on the floor, hold them, and cry. It never gets any easier. As you said, I’m always thankful it’s “just” the stomach flu, but it’s still hard.
I do manage to make Darling Girl laugh when I clean it up because I always have to pull my shirt up over my nose so I don’t smell it so easily and barf too. So there’s something!
Oh that look just kills me, too. I wanted to cry reading your post. And I, too, can’t handle puke and pray for the hubby to deal with such messes. You did such a great job, mama. XO
Oh my goodness. This has me in tears and trying to catch my breath. Poor baby and poor mama. You are an amazing mother.
And a damn good writer too.
ugh. yes. been there. it’s awful!! how’s eddie doing today?
Can I just say that I LOVE your writing, yours was the first blog I ever read! I have 2 girls, 1 puked EVERYWHERE for the first time about a yr ago and I was so panicked that I rang the doctor…it was just a bug…..but it’s such an unnatural thing for your body to do and very scary for your child (&u) that I panicked. I just saw her scared little face, she was willing me to make it stop, make her better, I’m her mum, that’s my job and this time I couldn’t…..but after it was all cleaned up and we cuddled up in bed together she fell asleep with the faint aroma of vomit in her hair and I finally calmed down! How’s Eddie doing now?
Oh, poor little guy and poor you 🙁 Abbey didn’t get sick like that until she was around Eddie’s age, and then she AND Dylan had it. Then me. Oy.
The look is the worst. A was still in her crib, and I wanted to crawl in there with her and just curl her into me 🙁
Ew.
It’s always when the hubs is away, isn’t it?
I may have already said this on your Facebook status, but it bears repeating: I would so much rather change 6 poppy diapers than clean up an ounce of vomit. Truth!