She was covered in her own vomit.
It was so freaking disgusting. I gagged at least four times. I prayed desperately, "Please, let me get through this without throwing up. Please." I don't do well with vomit. I'd even told Dh previously that when Baby E throws up, he's going to have to take the day off work to see to her. Unfortunately, he was out of town at a conference. A tiny part of me briefly wondered if I could just clean up the baby and leave the rest until he got home that night. Then I decided the smell was way too strong to let it all sit that long. Otherwise I totally would have. Ha ha
So. It was just me and the puke.
Poor Baby E. She had rubbed it all in her hair, all over her body. I had to bathe her twice, wash the sheets twice (oh yeah, and pick the chunks out in between washings), scrub down and disinfect the crib. The baby still smelled after her scrubbings, so I spent the rest of the day periodically wiping her down with wipes, scrubbing her hands with soap, Q-tipping her to the point of crankiness. I couldn't tell if she actually smelled, or if I was imagining it.
She had no fever, nor did she throw up again. An hour later, as I nursed her, she paused to chuckle when the neighbor's dog barked. She laughed, played all day. I don't know what caused the explosion. I have a few ideas:
- The previous day was ultra hot (for western Oregon): 102 degrees F. We went to the pool, but it was a lot of time in the sun. Maybe too much??
- At the pool, a friend gave me the rest of a cheese stick which I fed to Baby E. It was a little hard. Not gross hard - I mean, I felt comfortable feeding it to the baby...
- It was just one of those crappy, freak incidents that happen when you have a kid.
- She had a strange, one-hour flu.
In what may or may not be related, Dh had a one-day flu on Friday and spent the entire day in bed, trying very hard not to puke. And I spent yesterday in bed, feeling rather nauseous (I have a pretty strong stomach unless I actually smell puke, so puking flus don't usually do too much to me). I think it's rather convenient that Dh had this flu before me, since he is not always very sympathetic of my colds (I have the weak sinuses to make up for the strong stomach). He tended to the baby all day and only complained once. Amazing, I tell you. Interestingly, the baby nursed three times that day. I think she missed me.
Fortunately this recent spate of illness did not interfere with Date Night, an event I'd been looking forward to all week. On Saturday, we went out for a bite to eat and then saw the Harry Potter movie. Quite good. And so nice to just be away, just the two of us.
Oh and my husband won't like this, but I'm posting it anyway. I am rather particular about my kitchen. The entire rest of the house can be trashed, but if the kitchen is reasonably clean, I can cope. If the kitchen is messy or dirty, however, I get very anxious and start cleaning until it is acceptable. Only then can I relax. This background is provided so that you understand that on Sunday when I went to bed, the kitchen was clean. When I emerged from the bedroom Monday evening (sick all day), this is what I saw:
Sigh. I told Dh this is why I try to limit his time in the kitchen and extracted a promise that he would clean it up before he went to bed. Which he did, to Dh specifications. Then I finished cleaning it up this morning.