Motherhood is a Bitch

The past 72 hours have challenged me more than I could ever imagine as a mother. I've loved this beautiful transition in my life, and while I've carried my baby outside the womb for 10 months, even the 9 in were desirable. We have had mild panic attacks - baby's first fall while trying to sit up, baby's first fall while trying to stand, to severe colds and temperatures. I've always had a solid core to help me on these undesirable moments in motherhood, but this time was different.
Huzz went to a training session in NY with some coworkers. They took the train, so he left early one morning and was expected home late the next night. No biggie - we are used to weekends away for the army, and two days really is a cake walk with these two little people. I was having a great day at work, which is totally unexpected at this point. I got through the majority of the day and we hit recess. For those of you who aren't teachers, schedules are everything. For kinders, you need to cram as much learning and thinking time in the morning. You may have some stragglers who will quickly catch up once they've had breakfast, but by the end of the day, they will be dropping like flies. And you'll probably throw crumbs at them to help them keep going! Recess for us is right before snack, which is right before Unified Arts (the fun stuff), which is also right before dismissal. During Unified Arts, I take my plan time. I download my thoughts from the day to my team and we plan on the next steps for our kiddos. I finally made it to that point and was ready to download - my phone rang. First thought: my husband.
Nope.
Daycare. 😭
Ray has vomited twice and needs to be picked up. 😭😭😭😷😭
Even that went smoothly. I told my principal, she sent me a sub. I made sure my plans were labeled and clear for the next day, put in for a sub, and left. By the time I got there, she had vomited again. I walk in and she broke everyone's heart. There she was, in a boys onesie because she ran out of clothes, sitting miserably in the high chair watching her BFF paint. She looks up at me and completely breaks down. I don't know if it was relief that her comfort was finally there, her way of telling me she feels horrrible, or both. I scooped her up and she fell right into me. I was relieved she seemed to be happy with me. I thought the worst was over. I get her into her carseat, drive home, get her out of the car and into the house, and it happens. All over her clean clothes and my clean coat. So strip her down and snuggle her in. Instincts were saying "strip down and wrap that baby up!!" But she had no fever, and I didn't want to contain her if she needed to up chuck again - especially not in our wraps!
I'll save you all the gorey details and fast forward two hours, when I'm sobbing on the phone with my mom because the doctor told me there's nothing to do except keep offering her sips of pedialyte and check for constant wet diapers, and if anything seems off to bring her to the hospital. We had a solid nap and held off on needing another bath or new clean clothes, so we went and picked up big Brother, pedialyte, and microwaveable dinners. We were on survival mode at this point, there was no way I was going to risk staying out longer than necessary.
She slept all night and had a huge smile on her face in the morning. I gave her a small bottle before bringing Brother to school. She played and laughed with him before we left. He picked her up, and with her came her meal. Poor kid was so upset. He was wearing his favorite outfit (red football hoodie and black athletic pants. Probably a t-shirt with a cat that is a disk jockey on it). Welcome to my life, kiddo! The rest of the day, the baby had sips of pedialyte while playing. She would grab her sippy cup and drink, then laugh at me, or share with me, or crawl over and cuddle up with me. She snuggled and slept for about 6 hours that day. Daddy came home a couple hours earlier than we expected and we were thrilled to have everything back to normal. And it was normal for the entire day Friday. Huzz worked and Ray and I played/cleaned/wrapped, and Brother played video games. I wouldn't have it any other way.
Cue 4AM. I hear loud cries coming from Ray's room. The stupid monitor volume got turned down (thanks husband) and I didn't hear her as quickly as usual. I kick one dog out of my way, trip over the other one and stumble to her. I pick her up and snuggle her in and feel her cool, tear-soaked cheeks on my warm neck. I settle her by holding her close and hashing her, rocking her, and letting her know she was okay. I told her we were going to get a bottle - "you are still hungry from your tummy bug!" I grab the water out of the fridge, and I suddenly realize how hot I am, despite my attire being minimal. I take a deep breath, and suddenly, I feel my body struggle to stay up. I give the baby an empty bottle and place her on the floor. Luckily, she smiled at me in approval and I debated running my face under the cold water in the sink. I called my husband to pick up when I left off and ran to the bathroom - the cold tiles felt so good, just laying there a minute helped so much, I thought it was just a crazy hot flash. I sat with my husband and sleepy, satisfied baby and let him soak in her snuggles that he missed out on the past 3 days. Little did I know, 12 hours later and I have yet to touch me baby again.
I caught it. Her stomach bug. It took a lot longer than I expected, but just a short hour after I selflessly let me husband nurture our baby, it really hit me. I quarantined myself in my bedroom while my husband got her ready. I took a nap and so did she, so he Lysol sprayed the house  (that will work), so I decided to infect it again by moving to the couch. I missed Easter with my in laws, I missed taking a shower, I missed eating. But most of all, I miss my girl. I miss grabbing her and wrapping her up. I miss showing her the world around her and seeing what she does. Motherhood has made me so selfish. I'm glad she is healthy again, and I am even more glad I have an incredible partner and son that I can rely on when I'm down. Motherhood has given me a whole knew meaning to motherhood. It has helped me appreciate my own mother more, and has made me realize that children can be awful. They can be mean, they can be gross, they can be scary, smelly, messy, but mothers love you all the same. Motherhood is awful, but it's the best thing I could ever have in my life.