The sICK factor

With the camera equipment for uploading photos still on the fritz, I thought it might be best to share what our last few days have been like... sans pictures.

Apparantly our Addie suffers from fall allergies, or the exact same sort of cold that she only contracts after being outside. This leads to swollen and sometimes watery eyes, sneezing, congestion and a whole lot of snot. Prior to Addie's birth, I swore that I could handle all of the poo in the world, just no vomit. Curt said that was fine with him--he can deal with pukiness. Excellent! We have a deal.

What we did not plan for was my extreme aversion to things that come out of Addie's nose. I had no idea I would be so grossed out by boogars and the like. Really, every time I get in there to clear the area, I have to work super hard to quiet my overactive gag reflex. Curt finds this to be extremely hilarious and I'm sure I look pretty funny with one hand wiping a tiny nose, and the other covering my mouth as my head is turned in the opposite direction, eyes squeezed tightly shut. Oh yes, maturity rules at our house.

I have gotten better over the past several months, and I have done the unthinkable (aka, wiped Addie's nose with my shirt). It's so strange, the things that I do or say as a mom that I never in a million years thought I would...

When Addie coughs really hard and I'm afraid she might make herself sick, I instinctively cup my hand under her mouth. GROSS! What in the world am I thinking in those moments? Thank heavens my tiny makeshift vomit receptacle has never been used. Who knows what the results could be? Nothing good, I am sure of it.

Also, when Addie is really squirmy on the changing table and I'm dealing with a particularly messy mess, I have yelled to her, "Addie, stop moving around! I have to clean the poo out of your vagina!!!" I admit, I have shouted this many, many times. Definitely not the fantasy I had in my head when I was rubbing my swollen belly, imagining what life would be like with my darling baby girl.

I have cursed wicked obscenities under my breath in the middle of the night as I trudge to her bedroom for the fifth time. I have somewhat violently shoved my soundly sleeping husband when I return to our bed after multiple visits to our screaming, sick babe. I have cried myself to sleep because I am so tired and feel so guilty for the wicked obscenities and the violent shoving.

In the midst of all the ugliness, I have to remember that I am getting up in the night. I am wiping her face and her bottom clean. I am rocking her back to sleep. I am being a mommy. Certainly not always pretty, but always there. And funny enough, there is a silver lining to all of the sleepless nights and the ickiness of a sick baby--all those extra snuggles. It may sound strange, but oh how I love those really good, nestled in, arms wrapped around her, so tired I can't keep my eyes open, warm, precious cuddles.

Those priceless moments are God's way of turning my dial back from the brink of insanity, down to comforter and nurturer. Works every time.