My Poor Baby

Evan is sick. He has had a runny nose ever since he started daycare, but last week he developed a cough and by Saturday afternoon, he was down for the count. After Evan woke up from his nap around 2:00 on Saturday, all he wanted to do was rest his head on my shoulder. I propped myself up on the pillows on my bed and just sat holding my sick little guy for about two hours. He finally was ready to sit next to me, so I shifted him around and we snuggled back together.

As he was sitting next to me, I heard his stomach start to grumble. I knew what was coming, but I was like a deer in the headlights. Should I scoop him up and try to make it to the toilet? Do I grab a towel? Those moments of indecision cost me and Evan ended up vomiting all over Bryan's side of the bed (sorry, sweetie).

We cleaned up the mess, settled back in--this time with Evan sitting on my lap--and turned on some Baby Signing Time, which Evan loves to watch. I had decided that should this happen again, I would make the effort to get Evan into the bathroom. It seems like a natural extension of the potty training process, right? I mean, you have to learn how to throw up at some point. For the sake of our linens, it seems like I should teach this sooner rather than later.

Then, it happened. More grumbling from his little round belly. I was ready to make my move, but either I was too slow or Evan was just too quick. This time I was covered in the mess. Both of us were soaking wet. I cleaned up the mess, again, and changed our clothes. Luckily, that was the last time Evan was sick to his stomach.

He went back to resting on my shoulder, and we stayed that way for a few more hours. He was awake the whole time, just sitting. As I was holding him, I thought about how amazing it was that all he wanted was to be with me. I know there will come a time in his life that he experiences a hurt so great that I can't take it away or make him feel better, but on Saturday, just being with me was enough to put him at ease. I am writing this down so I can pull it out and look back at it when he experiences his first rejection, his first heartbreak and his first disappointment. Things that I will so desperately want to fix but won't be able to. For now, I'll savor my small victories and be thankful that at one point, I was able to make it all better.