Vomit

Yes, it was a very long night. Daniel threw up a few more times before he went to bed, never quite managing to get it in the bucket. I remember being sick when I was a child: my mother took care of everything, cleaned up the mess without a word of complaint, and made me feel that everything would be all right. Now I am the mom, and that happy task falls to me. Unlike my mother, however, I am fortunate to have a husband who pitches right in and does as much of the yucky work as I do.

By the time I went to bed my stomach was roiling, and I knew I had the virus, too. I hoped that I would be spared the vomiting, but I was not to be so lucky. I was up at least four times, throwing up and suffering from diarrhea. Daniel slept the rest of the night, but at 1:30 Matthew woke up vomiting. Tab kept spraying Lysol in the bathroom in a desperate attempt to keep the germs at bay, and we had the washing machine and dryer running all night to keep a fresh supply of clean sheets and towels.

At 3 o'clock in the morning, as I waited for the next wave of nausea to pass, I decided the only thing worse than trying to avoid vomiting is knowing that you need to vomit and not being able to. The last bout is always the worst; there is nothing left to throw up but bile and yet the stomach heaves and churns unbearably. Another thought crossed my brain: how can anyone choose to be bulimic? I can't understand why anyone would make herself throw up when vomiting must be one of the worst sensations in the world. And I'm speaking as someone who went through a full day of unmedicated labor with my first child and complications from a C-section with the twins.

This morning, you would never know Daniel and Matthew had been sick. They were as energetic and lively as they are on any morning. I, however, felt as though I'd been competing in the Ironman triathalon all night. I was exhausted and my stomach muscles ached from throwing up. Tab kindly took over with the boys so that I could go back to sleep for a few hours.

When I got up, we decided we'd all go with Daniel to his swimming lesson since Daniel was obviously recovered. Tab walked the twins around the Trenton State campus while I hung out watching Daniel's lesson. His instructor today was Ch'han, a young woman with an impassive face but persuasive style; she managed to get Daniel to float both on his back and his front with her support. Floating on his back with his limbs splayed out on the water he looked like a pale little star fish.

This afternoon after lunch, I was utterly exhausted. Tab agreed to get the twins ready for their nap, and I went upstairs and lay down about 2 p.m. The next thing I knew was waking up, thinking it was morning. I realized Tab's side of the bed was empty and wondered why he was up already. Then I looked at the clock, saw it was 6 o'clock, and realized I had slept for four hours straight. The nap helped, but I'm still not feeling completely well. Matthew and Daniel, however, have been fine all day. Oh, for the elasticity of youth!

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