Poor Baby!

Clinton has had another trying day. Now, I have NEVER wished to throw up...it's something I absolutely hate...and every time I do I cry and call out for my mommy, even when she's 1000 miles away...but today as I watched my son throw up 7 times in two hours only to conclude with dry heaving, I prayed to God to let it be me.

The first time he was asleep in the next room and mother heard him gagging. She ran in and sat him up so he could get it out of his throat. (Please don't leave your babies asleep where you can't hear them!) In order to calm him down, I walked him around and then we stopped in the kitchen to show Bebe and Jzajzie that he was okay. Then without warning he spewed what felt like gallons of vomit all over me, himself, and the kitchen floor. I never even flinched...didn't have time to, really. I just stood there a little sickened from the smell waiting for my mommy to come and rescue both of us. With Clinton now screaming, Mother pulled out her mommy and grandmommy super powers and went to work. Within seconds she had a cold rag for Clinton, a warm rag for the floor, and bath water running. I took Clinton in for a bath, usually his favorite part of the day, and he just kept trying to crawl out over the edge to get back into my arms...I knew we had more to come. We spent the next two hours going through the same cycle over and over...Clinton would lay across my chest almost lifeless, he'd start to squirm as if to look for that perfect position that would offer him some sort of relief, he'd get clammy, he'd give his best attempt to cry, a large gurgle would come from his belly, he would spew, he'd cry a little, then feeling better he'd offer a little smile...then we would rinse and repeat. I changed clothes four times and Clinton had two baths.

The last episode was so bad that I rushed downstairs and told mother we were going to the hospital. I handed her Clinton so I could throw on some jeans and t-shirt. She had Chelsea hold him so she could also get dressed (yes, we were still in jammies at 11am--of course it was my 3rd or 4th pair for the day). Chelsea took him outside and he immediately perked up. Within ten minutes he was back to jumping around in his exersaucer, playing the drums (slapping his hands in rhythm to any surface he can find--the table, your face, whatever), and squealing like it was the best day ever.

Seriously, y'all...I would rather have two broken legs, pink eye, a UTI, and a bad hair day, than to watch my child endure the pain and agony that comes with nausea and throwing up.

This is the second time in his short little life he has had to suffer a stomach bug. And where do you think we were the last time it hit...TEXAS! No worries, Texas, I don't blame you. We actually took him to the doctor later in the day and the doctor said it wasn't really a stomach bug, but all the drainage from his head cold that had gone into his stomach...gross! So not only was I covered in vomit, it was snot vomit...and I'm one of those people that can't stand to hear people blow their noses...it makes me gag to think what I was being covered in.

Oh, the things you'll do for your children!