Newsflash!!!! MEN ARE WEENIES.
This past Sunday morning, I was awakened by my darline son at 5 am. He was coughing and crying obviously in desperate need of his mommie. He usually doesn't wake until at least 6 am but given the fact that we've been fighting a cold for a couple of week, I wasn't exactly shocked.
I went into Baby E's room and scooped him up. We ate a bottle while we sat on the couch in the dark and within seconds of finishing he was back to sleep. To help him get some much-needed extra rest, I let him sleep on my chest while I cat-napped propped on 2 pillows at one end of the couch. That let Baby E get another 2 hours of sleep without bone rattling coughing spells and got me some much-needed extra rest too.
I needed the extra rest because I had already been up most of the night. Apparently, Baby E was kind and shared his cold with me, so I was up and down a million times blowing my nose, sneezing, and generally not breathing well. So now between being pregnant and sick, I awoke to a sickly child. When Baby E woke again around 7:30 or so, he was on go. At least he didn't realize that he felt bad. But that meant that this already sick and very tired mom had to chase a 10 month old all over the house.
I was doing my best to be kind to my hubby, B. He had spent the entire previous week on a hunting trip in Ohio and was still trying to recover from a couple of sleepless nights. However, I'll freely admit that I was counting the minutes until he woke up and I got some help... that time never came.
When B did finally roll out of bed for all of 5 minutes, he said that he was very sick. He sat on the couch with his head between his knees and then promptly went back to bed. Lovely!
After B got back into bed, he called to me and asked if I would please bring him some crystal light lemonade. I'm sure the look on my face was incredulous. I'm sick, I've been up all night, I'm taking care of a sick baby, and you want me to wait on you??? I know I'm dreaming. Wake Up, Wake UP, WAKE UP!
Alas, it wasn't a dream. B was indeed very ill (fever, nausea, the works), Baby E was sickly, and I was feeling like doing anything more than spending the day on the couch would be the equivalent of climing Mt. Everest. But guess what??? When you're the Mommie, you don't get sick days.
(Semi-random thought: Apparently Daddys do get sick days. Do they have a better union than we do? And how is it exactly that I find the person with whom I can renegotiate my mom contract?)
So after fetching B his drink, I started trying to figure out how I would survive the day. For starters, I would need to run to a store at some point and buy some Pedia-lite for Baby E and some pregnancy-safe meds for me (not that those would actually work, but at least maybe I'll get a placebo effect). So I headed to the bathroom to try to get ready for the day. While I was washing my face, Baby E seemed to be playing happily in the floor. He was perfectly happy right up until he knocked a candle into the bath tub and glass shattered all over the tub floor. After calming Baby E down, I finished washing my face and brushing my teeth then proceeded to try to clean up the glass from the tub (at least it was all in one place). At some point B came in to see what the commotion was but then went right back to bed.
So now I'm cleaning glass out of the tub with one hand, and trying to keep the 10 month old out of the trash can full of glass with the other hand. Eventually, Baby E turned to play with something else so I was able to begin to make some real headway with the glass cleanup. Well, Baby E had found my giant Warehouse Club bottle of Zyrtec (with a childproof cap). I thought with the cap on tightly it would be safe enough to let him rattle it and teeth on the lid. WRONG AGAIN! Just as I'm about to finish the glass cleanup I heard the unmistakable sound of a thousand tiny pills scattering on the tile floor. Then I turned to see the 10 month old sitting in the middle of all those pills. Could this day get any better?
As my exhausted body met with complete and total frustraition the tears began to fall. I moved the 10 month old out of the pile of pills and became a human road block between him and the pills as he squirmed and screamed while trying to get around me. Eventually Baby E gave up and sat and cried. So this tired mom cried too. I sobbed like a little girl while I tried to gather all those pills from the floor and recollect them into the bottle. Then it was time to calm both myself and my child down.
Once I got us both a little settled, I called my mom on the phone and begged for help. I needed a babysitter just long enough that I could run to the store and grab a couple things to get this sick family through the day. But by the time that my mom could get to the house, B's symptoms combined with a cronic condition to make us suspect that his gallbladder might be ready to rupture. So off to the emergency room we went. I left our sick child at home with my mom, I got myself dressed, and then I drove B to the hospital to sit and wait for 6 hours while they ran tests and bloodwork and X-rays. All to find out that B has a virus.
As I sat in those hard plastic chairs pregnant, sick myself, and watching my husband sleep on what I know for a fact to be one of the most uncomfortable cots around, I was a little jealous. Here he was... sick, getting all kinds of care and waiting on, and sleeping in spite of everything. Meanwhile my sick, exhausted, pregnant butt was going numb on a hard chair as I fought off periodic dizzy spells. And earlier I thought my day couldn't get worse.
Eventually, we did make it home. I did manage to grab myself and my child some medicine at a pharmacy and my wonderful mother-in-law came and stayed the night with us to give me a hand yesterday. Did I mention that it also took 1.5 hours to get Baby E down for the night? Yep, normally we have no problems... Sunday night it was terrible. Just one of those days, I guess.
Yesterday (Monday) all 3 of us stayed home from work/daycare. I took Baby E to the doctor to get him an anti-biotic, and B went to his doctor (driven by his mom) to see if he needed some other kind of medication and whether or not he should be around me and Baby E. He checked out okay with his doctor and eventually we all made it to bed last night. Let me tell you it wasn't a moment too soon. By bedtime, B said he was feeling better, Baby E was fairly tired and went down with no fuss, and I was still just as sick as the day before and still hadn't gotten any extra sleep in 2 days.
Last night wasn't a good night for Baby E. I guess the male gene kicked in because he woke up a 10:30 pm crying. He again needed to be held and loved. After an hour, I laid him back down but he woke right back up and proceeded to play in his crib for another hour. I sat on the sofa in the living room watching the monitor until he went back to sleep. Needless to say when the alram went off at 5 am this morning, I again didn't want to get up. But I did. I got up and drug myself around getting ready, packing lunches, and getting Baby E up and dressed.
Just before we were ready to leave the house B annouced he was feeling bad and staying home again. I had hoped that he would drive us to work and I could sleep for 30 minutes in the car. No dice again. He called at 10 this morning to tell me he'd just gotten out of bed (lucky dog). I wanted to stay home too, but since I'm having a baby in May, I have to save every minute that I can. Plus, if I had stayed at home I would have felt like I needed to keep Baby E at home too. I haven't heard from the daycare so I assume Baby E is having a good day. If not, I don't want to know about it yet. I have 2 more hours before I get off work and have to go pick up more meds and formula. Then I'm going home. I hope that B is in the mood for leftovers because I'm dang sure not cooking.
To be perfectly honest, I was a little angry at B this morning for staying at home. Maybe not angry, maybe just jealous. I think the last few days have taken every last ounce of sympathy out of me. I no longer have the ability to feel bad for B. I do wish he would feel better, but almost as much for me to have some help again as for him to not be sick. It's not that I don't love my husband... I do very much. But I no longer have the energy in me to take care of 3 sick people. I'm tired, I'm frustraited, and I really just wish than men had to "man up" the way we women have to when we're sick.
Maybe I'll feel better once I can breathe again (if that ever happens). How do you cope when your man is sickly?
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