Remember when I blogged the other day that I was handling things okay, but I wasn’t sure how I’d be when all hell broke loose? Well, it did.
I was happily watching Sesame Street with PJ while nursing BabyN. PJ did something to get my attention, and for just a second I stopped watching BabyN. At that moment, I heard the explosive spit-up sound. He doesn’t spit up at every meal, so this definitely caught my attention. It wasn’t entirely unusual either, though, so my primary worry was getting him cleaned up before the spit-up got to my clothes. I hate having to sit around in sour-smelling clothes.
Then it happened again, another monstrous spit-up. About now, PJ is trying more and more outlandish things to get my attention, and I’m trying desperately to find a dry spot on the burp rag to clean up this newest mess. And then whatever was left in hell hit all at once. BabyN went from a spit-uppy baby to a fountain of vomit.
Now PJ was a spitty baby for sure. He was on two medicines for reflux for his first fourteen months, and we could still go through multiple burp rags at each meal. But despite the nasty spit-up, he’s been a healthy baby. He’s never had so much as a cold, much less a stomach virus. I’d never seen a true baby vomit before and always wondered if I’d recognize it when it happened. Apparently I didn’t need to worry about that one.
So my main worry went from trying to keep my clothes clean–they were soaked in vomit already–to making sure BabyN didn’t choke on it. I was truly overwhelmed when the volcano of vomit finally tapered off. Both BabyN and I were soaked all the way through with nothing nearby to help soak up some of it to keep it from dripping until we could get somewhere to clean off. There was nobody around to come to my rescue. And to top it off, I had to keep PJ out of trouble in the meantime. I had no idea where to even start.
I was proud of myself for not just breaking down and crying while covered in baby vomit. I managed to get BabyN to his playard/changing area in our bedroom without dripping nasty off either of us and encouraged PJ to follow. I stripped off my shorts, the worst recipient of the vomit, and tried to think through what to do next. It was clear both BabyN and I needed to be bathed, and PJ was only going to complicate matters. Thankfully it was just about naptime, so that was the next priority. I felt awful leaving BabyN covered in his own vomit while I put PJ down for a nap (while I was half undressed too), but he seemed to care less than I did. I was clean enough to bathe and change BabyN (NOT how I imagined his first bath at home), and then he was comfortable enough again to let me get a shower.
So while I will admit I was caught off guard by the sudden chaos that broke loose this afternoon, I’m proud of myself for keeping my cool. And two of the three of us have come out of the experience cleaner. I kind of feel like SuperMom right now–especially since I also have a load of laundry running (for obvious reasons), with plans to clean up some clutter and bathe PJ later as well. Tomorrow we have check-ups for both boys, and I’m handling them alone–hence the reason for the baths today, but also another opportunity to feel like SuperMom, if I don’t crack under the pressure of handling both boys out on my own for the first time.
(By the way, I’m trying some of the pain pills again, and they are helping a good bit. Can you tell?)