The following is a brief recap of the Best Week Ever and by best week ever I mean worst week of my life.
Samuel got things off with a bang by getting an ear infection and keeping me up all night every night.
The afternoon I was about to make our reservations for three family days on the beach in New Smyrna, my love calls to tell me that Uncle Sam cut those three days off. I sob my way to the salon chair where Jillian fixes my hair beautifully and provides me with alcohol to drown my sorrows. So, I decided to shut up, suck it up, and move forward.
Hubby came home. We spent as much time together as possible considering all the things he had to do in preparation for the big "D". We were both stressed out (vast understatement) and seemed unable to connect, which is common for us when times get really hard. This however, left me longing and kind of grouchy because I guess I was expecting a whole bunch of romance seeing as how we'll have at least 9 months apart.
We went to the science center and had a great time :)
Then. it happened. Puke at midnight. Nicholas toddled into the guest room (where I had been sleeping so that my hubby could at least enjoy full nights' rests in his own bed before leaving) postively covered in puked up pizza. Hubby helped me clean him up and took him to the master bedroom for the rest of the night. I cleaned most the house by 1:45 am. Pickle was up all night long vomitting. The next day, he felt better for a few hours in the morning before becoming strange. He got sick again and refused to eat or drink anything. He was clearly dehydrated, and after he vomitted on me during dinner, I asked his daddy to take him to the ER. My hero took him, and they gave him IV fluids and some zofram and did a bunch of scans and blood tests and analyses, etc. Apparently, he just had "the bug" and would be fine, but you can imagine how I felt knowing my baby was sick, and in pain, and that my husband's last night at home was spent in a chair in an ER waiting room instead of in my arms on my couch. So I did what any sane woman in my situation would do! I cleaned the whole house again and began eating the chocolate chip cookies I baked for the soliders...
Nick was recovered enough the next day to ride with us to drop my Hero off at the appointed place so that he may go for the big "d". so. we went there as a family, and I left the place as a geographically single mom/ raving lunatic/ basket case. Mom drove me home in her car while Daddy kept Nick in the truck so that Nick wouldn't see me like that. I felt it best that he not understand the gravity of the situation. (The rest of my feelings about this situation can not be expressed by simple syllables and punctuation. There are no words to make you understand, and trying here would only make me hurt more. Perhaps in time I will find the strength and the adjectives to express some piece of it. In the mean time, this watershed in my life is reduced to this single paragraph, but certainly you understand that there is a great raging waterfall of pain and loss hiding behind this tiny group of words.) We made it to my parents' house. I talked to hubby a few more times and crawled, emotionally exhausted, onto my couch there.
Hubby called that next morning and told me he had been up all night vomitting, etc because he had contracted "the bug!" I felt awful, blamed myself for not cleaning enough, and worried about him being ill and traveling the many hours to where he's going. The funny thing was that although I had been quite vigilant about washing my hands, taking my vitamins, cleaning, and taking the proper precautions with Nicholas, I felt yuck. In fact, I had felt slightly "yuck" for a couple of days but had convinced myself it was all the stress. Ladies and Gentleman, it was decidedly not stress. It was "the bug". And if we want to compare it to a bug, I think we could say it was about a 40 foot cockroach with a scorpion's tail. Huge. Disgusting. and Painful with the potential to be lethal. I took ill that night and, I'm ashamed to say, I took the rest of Nicholas' Zofram to try and tame the vomitting because he was no longer experiencing symptoms. I was petrified that I wouldn't be able to stay hydrated enough to breastfeed Samuel John! The cramps were awful, I was delirious with the pain, and I was up all night long. I survived. My sweet parents let me sleep pretty much all day the next day. I drank some fluids and began coming around.
The next morning, Mama took ill. She maintained that it was the bad salad from the night before, but I knew better. I spent the day feeling responsible and therefore horrible! AND. I was forced to go to the beach and the pool. Can I tell you that 1) I look like a spotted walrus with shaving bumps in my new polka dot swimsuit and 2)that i HATE the beach. why? because I hate sand. and dirt. and places where sand and water meet and climb into your private crevaces.
That evening, Daddy fell prey to the bug. His was the very worst of all. I hear from mama that he is doing better, and now I am home on my couch. Both boys are sleeping, the dog is curled up on his bed, and I am here free to sit around in my bra and blog. But what a freaking week. I hope there is a bit more happiness to be spread around soon. I have faith there will be. Thanks for letting me share it all. you've helped more than you know already.