Last week we experienced another first of parenthood, but this one was a little less pleasant than most of the firsts we talk about. This may be difficult for some of you to read, so if you need to leave the room, please do so. Are you ready? We're talking about vomit.
Monday, Elijah threw up. Hurled. Up-chucked. On me. Also on himself, the curtains, several stuffed animals that happened to be too close, etc. I thought some of the crazy spit-ups he'd done were bad, but now I realize, that while the amount may be comparable, there a crucial difference in color, texture, and overall unpleasantness that tips the scales more than I'd realized. Poor baby. He'd not been eating well for several days, which I didn't understand, but otherwise had not acted sick. He had no fever that I could tell, wasn't acting remarkably fussy, or anything. He didn't seem too bothered by the fact that he had just emptied the contents of his stomach, actually, and was pretty pleasant for the remainder of the day. I, on the other hand, may be scarred for life. Just kidding. I'm just thankful that James was home (his car was in the shop and so we were balancing getting us all different places) to help with the clean-up process. Basically he took Elijah and cleaned him up and changed him while I changed myself, started laundry, and scrubbed the room down. :)
Thursday or Friday, I got around to ironing the curtains (that had had to come down and be laundered) and James put them back up. I thought this adventure was behind us, but alas, we had only made it through phase one. Friday evening, we had friends over for dinner, put Elijah down peacefully, and all was well. Around 9:15, we heard a strange sound from his room. He'd been quiet and asleep, so I thought maybe it was a sneeze. Our friends thought it sounded like vomit, so we bravely sent James in to investigate. I really didn't expect this, but James rushed back out and said, "It's throw up. I'm going to need some help!" It took all four of us and the next half hour to recover (mostly) from this one! Poor Elijah had puke in his ears, all over his face, all over his pajamas, all over the bed, etc. I do wonder at the trajectory of said puke. James extricated Elijah from his messy pajamas while I tried not to hurl myself, and I gave him a bath while our friends changed the sheets. Usually Elijah loves bathtime, but apparently being woken from a dead sleep and thrust into the brightly lit bathroom and getting water poured all over your head is not a peaceful experience. He screamed and scream and howled until I took him out. Then he was all cuddly and sweet and I rocked him for a while until he started to be more awake (our little man is so preciously social that he doesn't like to fall asleep while being held anymore!), and then put him down in his crib. He did okay for a little while, but ended up crying and crying for another hour plus. I tried feeding him again, but he didn't seem too interested, but he finally went back to sleep!
I had heard parents lament the nights of multiple vomit episodes (this is the reason, I've been told, you need several crib sheets), so I was nervous throughout the night and didn't sleep well for listening for Elijah (I did NOT want to go in the next morning and find that he'd done it again hours before and I didn't hear him, though surely he would cry and I'd hear him!), but he slept peacefully finally!
He's been fine since them. I'm a little nervous with every cough, sneeze, etc, but so far we haven't had any other huge messes like that! Please, Jesus, heal the little man completely!
So...here we walk into the next phase of parenting...lovely.