Tuesday, December 10, 2013

First time for everything

I've reentered one of the only stages of babyhood/toddlerhood that I never miss when over. Usually I miss things. I miss how fragile and dependent newborns are. I miss those first smiles. I miss head holding/rolling/crawling/walking before it becomes the new normal. While I'm excited about and embrace each new milestone, I miss, and mourn, each passing stage as my babies grow up because I love babies and when they grow up it means they aren't babies anymore. I love my kids, too, of course.

But...babies. I love them. Everything is fascinating to them all the time and they're so soft and cuddly and new. (And, you know, really, really exhausting, but still...)

There are some stages I could do without, however, and Benjamin has just entered one of those stages.

Around two o'clock in the morning, Benjamin started fussing. I told myself he'd just go to sleep, but he kept not doing it and instead got more and more worked up. Eventually I woke Andrew up to retrieve Benjamin for me because I simply could not get out of bed and Andrew's been blessed with the ability to sleepwalk. He can get up, get the baby, climb back in bed and be fast asleep again all within a minute and a half. I can't. Not that I fall asleep any faster if Andrew gets the baby for me but at least then I don't have to get out of bed, right?

As Andrew handed Benjamin to me I said, "Tsk. Why are you so fussy tonight? You're supposed to be sleeping, Baby! Ew! And you smell funny. Why do you smell funny?"

"Sorry," Andrew mumbled.

"I was talking to Benjamin," I clarified. "You're fine. Thanks for getting the baby."

"Yup," Andrew sighed, and with that he clocked out and was immediately fast asleep once again.

I nursed Benjamin to the point of satisfaction, or at least I thought I did. He unlatched and proceeded to flop around in a futile attempt to get in a comfy enough position to fall asleep. Usually he just snuggles right up to me and passes out in a blissful milk coma. Last night he could not get comfortable.

He tossed. He turned. He moaned. He let out a little cry that I'd never heard before, a cry that said, "I don't know what's going on with my body but I know I need my mom right now!"

And then he threw up.

"Andrew," I groaned, giving him a nudge with my foot. "I need you to wake up right now."

"Wha'? Why? Wha'?" Andrew blubbered in his sleep.

"Benjamin and I are both covered in vomit," I explained. "I need you to get up and help, right now."

Andrew flicked on our nightstand light and then we started the unsavoury task of cleaning up little-kid throw up. Those thirteen months of copious amounts of reflux-induced baby spit up was nothing compared to one night of dripping in partially digested everything. And, naturally, Benjamin threw up a second time when we were right in the middle of cleaning up.

"What is this?" I asked, picking a chunk off my arm. "It looks like mozzarella. I gave him some with lunch. Has he been sick all day?"

"It's either that or a piece of apple," Andrew said. "Maybe he got into that bag of apples..."

We've had a bag of apples sitting out. The ones on top were fine. The ones underneath, unnoticed, had rotted away to the point of turning into unrecognizable mush. Benjamin had found the bag of apples last night during story time and decided to drag it all around the house, leaving a trail of rotten apple juice in his wake (and giving me another moment to be very grateful we have wood floors rather than carpet).

Was it the stomach flu or was it food poisoning? We may never know.

Benjamin and I had a shower and were back in bed shortly after 3:00. Andrew had taken care of the bedding and had started a load of laundry and was already fast asleep once again (he has a gift).

I brushed Benjamin's teeth and gave him a drink of water before getting back in bed but he, of course, wanted to nurse. I told him that it might be better to just fall asleep without nursing, just this once. He hardly protested and soon fell into a fitful sleep. I did end up nursing him several times in the night, just to get a few minutes of peace and quiet when I could grab them.

Oh, and he fell out of the bed (he was such a wiggle worm last night) but I always put pillows on the floor (because we have hard wood floors and no carpet) so he was fine, just a little confused.

This morning Benjamin's up and active. He's been playing with Miriam and is behaving fairly normal, though he's a little more grumpy than usual (oh, and he might even take a nap (he's nursing right now and looking very sleepy)).

So, this is it. We've reached one of my least favourite stages: the stage where babies are old enough to eat grown up food and thus have grown up vomit but aren't old enough to make it to the toilet or tell you what's wrong or even understand what's going on.

I'm sure Benjamin will be very happy when he's older and finds out that I recorded, in great detail, the account of his first stomach bug. But, hey—a milestone's a milestone, right?

1 comment:

  1. Throw up is the worst! We felt so proud when our oldest made it out of his bed and off the carpet (onto the hardwood) for the first time. Sad I know but you are right that is the WORST stage.