As some background info, ever since Daylight Saving's time, James has been getting up earlier and earlier, and has returned to his early toddler bed habit of walking into our room to chat. He ruins our sleep and then falls asleep for nap in the afternoon if he's too tired, so he doesn't care.
On Tuesday morning, James kept us up from 4:30 to 5:30. So when James asked me for strawberries and grapes approximately 500 million times, I wasn't exactly in a zen place. But I explained to him we didn't have any and even showed him the inside of the refrigerator. James is not so spoiled that I ran out and got him strawberries that day, but he is spoiled enough that Kevin brought them home that night after work.
Being up all night doesn't bother him- he can take a nap any time!
On Wednesday, shortly after I got up, Kevin briefly put his coffee down on the bathroom sink because he was going to shower while I had breakfast with James. James ran right over to the coffee cup and spilled it on everything in the bathroom. He got time out and we started the day mopping up everything.
My 36-week doctor's appointment was uneventful, but Kevin took James to a bookstore, so for the first time I enjoyed the quiet solitude of a medical exam like it was another babymoon. It was lucky actually that I chose this appointment not to bring James, because he was probably pretty infectious so I spared a bunch of pregnant women from catching his bug.
At snacktime, I gave him a big bowl of half grapes and half strawberries. He's old enough that he picks the grapes off the stems no problem, so I assumed he'd pluck the leaves off the strawberries too. Not so much. So I told him not to eat the leaves, and he responded, "But leaves are yummy." Oh-kay.
So I started making a dinner I thought Kevin would particularly enjoy: Five-Spice Hanger Steaks with Stir-Fried Brown Rice. I was feeling really fancy, but it was clear that James was already not feeling so great. I asked him if he felt okay, and he said his tummy hurt, and I suggested the strawberry leaves were to blame. He huddled under some couch cushions and watched cartoons with a glum look on his face. I appreciated that I could actually cook without him pestering me in the kitchen though so I went back to that- when I started a grease fire. James didn't even bat an eye to the fire alarm. I stopped the fire and called Kevin down to turn off the alarm.
I had only gone back to cooking for a few minutes when James puked all over the couch. I was totally unprepared and had nothing to mitigate it at all. I called Kevin back down to help. It took us both a long time to clean up James and the living room. Including giving James a bath. Kevin then took him upstairs in his pajamas so he could finish some work and I could finish dinner. I sent them up with a bucket "just in case" but I think think was a rookie parenting mistake on our part. We thought he'd puked from overeating or eating the strawberry leaves so we thought he probably wouldn't puke again.
So while I resumed cooking dinner, James puked all over Kevin and the upstairs bedroom. This time, we rinsed James a little, and then I held him under kitchen-arrest while Kevin cleaned the upstairs and brought down everything that needed to be washed.
I had just finished serving dinner. Just finished. When James tried to escape so I picked him up. He puked all over me. We both had to shower.
Dinner was now cold, but Kevin ate his quickly, gathered the laundry and went off to the laundromat. That's right, we're having a second kid and we don't even have a washing machine. Sigh. I put James to bed with a bucket and towels nearby.
Our cold dinner- Five-spice steaks with stir fry brown rice (not a picture of mine)
James woke up relatively happy. We took it easy all day, but the fact that he didn't get sick again lent weight to our theory that he'd overeaten the day before.
James coloring with crayons and a coloring book Chrissy sent.
Everything was okay until Kevin left to go to Manhattan to sign books at his publisher's and watch the NCAA UVA v. Michigan State game at Madison Square Garden.
I put James to bed, relaxed a little, and became exhausted super early. I went to bed and pretty much as soon as I was comfortable, I was up again throwing up. Since I've been throwing up a little here and there in my 3rd trimester, I thought nothing of it at first. But three pukes in, it hit me-- James had a stomach bug and I caught it. Nonetheless, I was still feeling pretty positive since James had recovered so fast that I'd power through it. Nope, I spent all night sick. This is not fun in the best of circumstances but when you're 9 moths pregnant and can't bend- and need more hydration than usual- disaster. I started having contractions. I downloaded a little contractions app on my iPhone and noted they were getting closer together and and longer. I tried to sleep but I was a mess and had to keep getting up to throw up more.
I was dying. I waited until James woke up (kind of a mistake since it took a while to reach the doctor) called my doctor's office, and as expected they told me to come into the hospital. They kept me waiting so long in admissions that I warned them I might throw up. They gave me a little pink puke pan and continued their slow paperwork. When they finished they took me in a wheel chair to labor and delivery triage. By then, the baby monitor machine showed that my contractions were 4 minutes apart. They told us we'd have to be there all day, and James was already being a pain so Kevin took him to Lukas and Sarah's and then came back. (James had a great day- more on that later.)
I was SO thirsty, and I couldn't drink anything. I was so desperate for the IV. It felt like forever and a day. It took them three tries to get the IV in my arm (I thought of dad). Finally by 9:30 a.m. the IV was in. But it's funny how when your worst symptom is under control, you move right along to worrying about the next. I was so queasy, and the doctors told me I would get Zofran to help. After the IV, I asked about the Zofran, and there was some confusion. First the nurse asked me who had said I was getting that, then when I asked again she said it wasn't in from the hospital pharmacy yet, finally they admitted the doctor had never called it in. But I am used to this sort of thing at hospitals; I have my stripes. (The nurse even asked if I was a nurse when she caught me reading my lab work.)
I finally got the Zofran at 11 am. I felt a lot better at first, then it wore off a bit. One problem was that I mainly felt better when I was sitting up, but they didn't want to let me do that because the the baby's heart rate would drop on the monitor. Lying down felt awful. Then I threw up water everywhere - the nurse did a very half-hearted job of cleaning it up. But then I really did start feeling better, and after a quick check-up they released me. After I got home the bug really didn't bother me anymore.
Though I feel horrible today and I'm not sure if it's leftovers of the norovirus, or just pregnancy rearing its cruel head. Oh well, 23 days to go.