The weekend weather-wise was absolutely gorgeous. We spent our Friday night out with friends eating pizza, taking walks and eating waterice. Saturday, we got a bunch of errands done together-just Declan and I. We even outfitted the baby closet with an extra rod, a rack at the bottom, and installed some baskets for miscellaneous goods like socks/leggings, etc. We felt super efficient. Saturday night, Declan went out to the lake with a buddy of his to start off the fishing season. I headed off to my parents for a cookout and a relaxing night around the firepit.
When I came home that night, I curled up into Declans lap and cried. I'll blame hormones for the intensity. The emotions were real. I was crying over the unknown. Things I have no control over. He never ceases to make me feel "at home" and comfortable. Its one of the safest places I know to be.
I fell asleep on his lap while watching TV that night...and then a few hours later we went up to bed.
Off into dreamland we both went.
But then, at 1:45am I hear something that woke me up. I looked up, and in the midst of our dark room I saw light beaming from all around the bathroom door.
Declan was sick.
Like, really, really sick.
I jumped up SO STINKING FAST (which doesnt happen these days...but I internally panicked when I knew something was wrong) and peeked through the door. I said quickly, "Do you want me or would you rather be alone...?" [Everyone has their preference.] He quickly muttered something along the lines of being alone. I ran back to my bedside table and grabbed my water to give it to him.
He crawled back into bed and I rubbed his back. He mentioned that he really thought it was a once and done thing. I felt relieved.
That proved false within about 30 minutes.
Over, and over and over again. Up every 15-30 minutes for about 6-7 hours.
My poor husband was seriously sick.
My heart broke.
You see, I don't deal with a sick husband very often. The man hasn't taken a sick day from his job in over 2.5 years (and that's how long he's worked there!).
Obviously, the stomach flu got the best of him.
Seeing him so sick got the best of me.
At one point, I realized he was taking a long time--and so I peeked into the bathroom. I heard the shower running. He just needed the hot water to relax and run over his tired, achey body (at that point). I sat on the ground outside the shower and just cried. Big, big, tears. I hated seeing him so sick. It broke my heart. Just earlier that evening I was on his lap, feeling protected and comforted by my husband, and now, here he is--with the flu getting the best of him. It sucked.
I realized that I will be that mother who cries everytime her child gets a cold. Yea, that will be me.
In the midst of all that went on that very.stinking.looong.night, one time Declan said--"You know what I was thinking...? If you went into labor right now it would be terrible. I'd be useless." I thought it was sweet that with everything else he was feeling at that moment, that's where his mind went. He also mentioned multiple times, "I can't believe you did this everyday for 4 months?" (in regards to baby-puke-fest).
The next day (Sunday), some relief seemed to come. However, the fever, body aches and chills lingered all day for him. He didn't really move off the couch, and even joked he might have "bed sores" when he got up.
He was really concerned about me getting this bug with being pregnant and all. I was equally concerned.
It was gorgeous out yesterday too--so I had all the windows open, a nice breeze was going through the house ridding the germs (I hope!), and I kept a pretty good distance. By the time we went to bed, his fever had broke.
While our weekend wasn't a total wash because of the sickness that plagued my normally healthy husband, it definitely wasn't ideal.
Better now then when I'm 39 or 40 weeks pregnant, right?
Here's to hoping your homes are healthy right now---and say a little prayer that I can steer clear from that nasty bug.