It could have been worse. It could have been so much worse. We could have been on a plane, for instance, on Christmas Eve at 3 pm when the first eruption occurred; vomit bursting out of my son’s mouth onto the floor.
“Uhhh Heather, DK just barfed,” said my husband.
“Like a lot?”
“Ohhhhhh nooooo.” Time stopped for a second and my mind zoomed in to macro-focus on my son’s mouth and shirt.
Yeah. It was a lot. Fuck.
It was Christmas Eve at my family’s house – we alternate every year and this year was my year. We had old friends coming over in a couple of hours for supper. I had been helping in the kitchen for much of the day. And now….the next 24 hours flashed before me as ones sitting with DK, covered in vomit. Whyyyyy?!?!
We moved to get the old towels, strip him down, wipe him off. And then another explosion – this time my husband completely covered.
Okay. So really not good. 2 bouts of barf in 20 minutes. Not good.
This was DKs first stomach bug. My own stomach flipped when I realized that the day before we had been at a family reunion hosted at a community centre in a small agricultural town in rural Alberta, and while the place seemed very clean and DK had the time of his life scampering around with his toys, there was very possibly traces of farm animal feces on people’s shoes who came into the hall….the bug was probably related and maybe I shouldn’t have been so lenient letting him explore every nook and cranny. But then again, you can’t protect your child from every bug. It happens.
Thirty minutes later, another stomach attack. I’m trying to remember what the BRAT diet is, and how many wet diapers he’s supposed to have, how to make sure he doesn’t get dehydrated, how to get barf out of the carpet, and how to protect myself from getting hit. Thankfully I was at my parents house and my mom knew what to do.
And so for the next 12 hours, I nursed DK on demand, held him close while he puked back up most of what I fed to him, cleaned him off, gave him some sips of water, and watched Winnie the Pooh as he fell asleep. Our Christmas Eve dinner guests hardly saw me.
Thankfully, although I didn’t know it at the time, (at the time I was in tears from exhaustion and having to change my shirt again) he started feeling better around 4 am, fell asleep for a few hours and aside from being tired, was back to his usual happy self by mid-morning, keeping down breastmilk, apple sauce and saltines, ready to open presents, and play with some new toys.
So yeah, it could have been so much worse.
Update: A friend of mine who is a family doctor commented that norovirus is the likely culprit as it was just barf (not also diarrhea – thank God!) and resolved pretty quickly.