Someone should write a job description for motherhood and include a strong stomach as one of the qualifications. When I used to play house as a little girl, I never pretended my dolls were struck by an illness which would require me to clean up things that emitted odors that no one should have to inhale. There are some things in life that no one thinks to prepare you for. You might think I'm being dramatic, but in the almost 3 years that I have been a mother,
I have never experienced anything as revolting as Rotavirus.
No decent mother enjoys seeing her child sick. It's especially disheartening to force an ill child out of the comfort of their home and into the doctor's office only to hear that "it's a virus and all you can do is let it run it's course." This virus' course has been full hills, sharp turns, and rocky terrain!
It all started on Saturday when Bubby spiked a fever of almost 102 after his nap. Despite the objections of some family and friends, I fully believe in allowing a fever to serve it's purpose without being quelled by medication. My son didn't complain of any discomfort but was very lethargic so I supplied him with as much water as he would drink and put him in bed with a movie (yes, I am that mom who allows her preschooler to have a tv in his room). I ended up giving him one dose of Tylenol before bed to help him through the night and expected the fever to be gone by morning. Hubby and I decided to go to separate church services so that the kids could stay home, even though Bubby's fever had almost dissipated by Sunday morning.
I no more than checked my son's sickness off of my prayer list then he threw up in bed early Monday morning. As a morning person, there are many things that I enjoy waking up to...a child bewildered by and covered in puke is not one of them. Bubby has never thrown up before so the poor kid had no clue what was going on. Likewise, Mommy had never dealt with another person's vomit. I was stumbling around in his bedroom, which was lit by only a single night light, half asleep and without glasses trying to calm him, clean him, and keep down dinner. It was at this point that I asked the Lord why He had not roused my husband from sleep, who does not have a serious aversion to putrid smells. I made a mental note that this was the most disgusting thing I had ever encountered in parenting.
Alas, the virus that I was unaware Bubby had is a showy thing and decided to outdo itself the next day! Hubby (who I now suspect is secretly as squeamish as I am), woke me just before 7 a.m. to ask me what the smell was coming from our son's room. This time I armed myself with glasses so that I could see what I was getting myself into. I half wish I would have went in blind because the smell and the sight together were almost more than I could handle. My little angel was sleeping peacefully, covered in diarrhea! I don't know how he could breathe in his room, let alone be asleep right on the midst of the mess. I quickly bumped last night's encounter with bodily fluids down a spot on the most disgusting list.
After forcing Bubby into his car seat screaming and crying, literally carrying both him and Sissy into the doctor's office, listening to him assert to anyone who so much as looked at him that, "I am not sick," the doctor finally arrived to heal my child. Of course, as soon as she told me how "well-mannered and friendly" my child is, he began screaming and kicking because "she was trying to hurt him" when she checked his stomach. Thinking this would all be worth it to have my healthy and happy preschooler back, I'm told to give him plenty of fluids, wash hands, disinfect toys, and wait for the end of Rotavirus.
Viruses are the worst because you really can't make them better, no matter how much they ask you to. So I spent the day holding my almost 3 year old and trying to be attentive to my 18 month old while trying to prevent them from swapping germs. Good times. :) I'm praying this thing is over soon and that it doesn't begin to cycle between my two children...
