My stomach has been through quite a bit over the past week. (Word of caution- what you are about to read isn't for the easily nauseated.)
It started Tuesday morning when I awoke to Eli standing beside my bed a little before seven, warning he didn't feel well. He had the look. The look that says this isn't a joke, do not hesitate, head immediately to the bathroom. However, I ignored the look and pulled him into bed with me- hoping with every fiber in my being I had misread his eyes, only to suffer the consequences. Ten minutes later I was cleaning vomit from myself, Eli, sheets, pillows, blankets, bedspreads, and the carpet.
Fast forward to Wednesday evening. After a vomit free 36 hour period, I thought we were safe. I thought wrong. I had spent the day at a Doctor's appointment and finishing a few last minute pre-baby errands. Lin spent the day playing with the kids, but as I entered the door, she warned me Eli made complaints about not feeling so great. I sat down on the couch to cuddle him and to hear the symptoms- when again I experienced the look. Now I had learned a hard lesson the previous morning, and had no intention of learning it again. I stood and began to run us to the bathroom- but to no avail. Despite my best effort, we were too late and I learned a new very valuable lesson. Running and throwing up are not a good combination. I spent the next 45 minutes cleaning vomit from the floor, the refrigerator, the carpet, the walls, the baseboards, the toilet, the sink, and the bathroom mirror.
This might be a great place to interject thanks. My precious mother-in-law worked right along side me mopping up Eli's stomach content. She got right down there on her hands and knees and scrubbed up the indescribable. - Amazing.
Another 48 hours brings us to Friday evening. Around 3:00 Eli requested to take a nap.
I should have known a storm was a brewin'. He asked to take a nap.
After a peaceful hour to myself, I hear screaming from his bedroom. As I ran to the stairs I didn't even have to make a guess for the reason, I could smell it. I spent the next hour cleaning vomit from his bed, sheets, pillow, stuffed animals, Super Friends action figures, carpet, and rug.
As of Sunday at 1:14, we have had no more instances- thank you Lord. However, my appetite still hasn't recovered. But I can't blame that completely on Eli. Beaux has done her fair share on my stomach this week too. Out of the past seven days, I have cleaned feces from her panties five of those days, and sometimes twice a day. Cleaning feces from underwear is exceptionally disgusting. We just can't seem to get this "pooping in the potty" thing under our grasp. I have dealt with more human excrement over the past few days than any one woman ever should.
But before I go I think I should mention that even my sweet, precious, unborn baby is wreaking havoc on my stomach. Being exactly 41 weeks pregnant today, my stomach is stretched in a way you might only be able to find documented in the Guinness World Book of Records.
I never knew a mother's love could sustain her stomach, but I am so glad it does. If it didn't I might of had a little more cleaning to do this week; I would have been cleaning up after myself.
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