Margaret has her first tummy bug and I'm pretty gutted about it (pun!). I've always been a hater of puke though. Call me a sympathetic puker but as soon as I hear, see, smell, or even think too hard about puking and I'll feel the urge coming. I would become SO focused on VOMIT that I literally couldn't think about anything else. At least, until now that is. Now I'm less worried about the puke and more worried about my poor, sick baby. This morning I texted my mom, "...I've been vomited on three times today. And you know how I know I'm a Mom now? Because I don't care. I just care about my sick baby." And it's true!
Margaret was red faced and exhausted, barely able to keep her eyes open, and crying in pain in confusion; my heart just broke. I was so sad for Margaret that I felt like crying when Phil said, "Do you know what I remember about being sick as a kid? I remember my mum cuddling me. I don't remember being sick." And it's true! Aside from one traumatic food poisoning event, I largely don't remember what it was like being sick as a kid. I remember that I got sick but I don't really have much memory of the sickness itself. Do you know what I DO remember? I remember that my mom always took really good care of us. As soon as we were feeling ill she would put a cool hand to our foreheads to assess if we were feverish. Then she'd whisk us to the couch and promptly tuck us in with the softest blankets and put a movie on. We were handed hot soups and popsicles with plenty of water and Sprite nearby, only things that were easy on our tummy. She carefully placed a trashcan nearby to catch any vomit and rubbed our backs afterwards to comfort us. Do you know what I remember? I remember feeling special. She would drop everything to nurse us back to health. I remember WISHING and HOPING for a fever to overtake me because a sick day was AWESOME with mom at my side.
Phil's gentle words made me feel better. Even though I can only ride this out with Margaret until she feels better I know that I'm doing everything I can to comfort her and be with her. I know that my singing softly to her while she falls asleep in my arms for the umpteenth time today COUNTS. Love is doing as much as saying.
What you're doing counts, Mamas. Don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing a great job. x
