So as you might have noticed, I took a week off. It was sorta intentional … last week we were visiting with my family in Colorado and I thought "Eh! You never know! With all the extra hands around to entertain my toddler I might throw a blog post up all willy nilly!" Oh Universe, I know I make you laugh.
The trip started out in our normal way: We arrived later than planned to the airport but still had time to grab breakfast at the huge food court right by security (God bless the Southwest terminal at LAX. No celebrities ANYWHERE and the best airport food court EVAH!). We strolled up to our gate just in time to board, grabbed seats together with our ginormous "lap child" whom, yes, got her little butt carded at check-in. I wanted to say to the ticket agent: "I KNOW, I can hardly believe she's under two MYSELF" as I handed over Syd's immunization card. By the time we were seated we were all exhausted from packing and the general hustle and bustle of family travel and enjoyed an uneventful flight save one irritating game of "Oh no you are NOT going to cut me off to the bathroom while I drag my child up the aisle to change her diaper! OH NO YOU DID NOT JUST EYEBALL SCREW ME!"
Anyway, while we waited for a misplaced bag my mom and sister surprised us in the baggage claim on the other side and it was just JOY! Sydney hugged and kissed everyone to death and then my able-bodied, younger, NOT pregnant sister happily chased her all over the place while John told them where to deliver the bag. He handles these sort of things because if I get in these type of lines I tend to say things like "I'M GONNA DELIVER YOUR BAG … TO HELL!!" and my poor pastor husband has to drag me off by the elbow with apologies all around. Anyway …
Once we made it to my mom's condo it was BLISS! Food was at the ready. She has a pool, a creek to walk to, a farm with horses and cows to walk to, and a huge greenway that is normally filled with dogs just outside her door. Toddler paradise, I tell you. Not to mention she and my sister have the two most pleasant and sweet and laid back dogs EVER … so much so that they actually seemed to enjoy all the hugs and kisses and attempts to be ridden they endured via my daughter.
My sister, her boyfriend, and my mom even threw us a surprise baby shower for Rocky and some of our dear friends who also happen to now live in the Denver area were all there! My friend Lily blogged about it here! Complete with photos of my ratty hair and no makeup! Because it was a surprise party! It was supremely awesome. We were totally blown away. I cried. I love my family.
The following day we got to visit with some of our dearest buddies from Texas (again, Lily blogs it here). Then that night my sister and I had a sister date and went to see the new Twilight: Eclipse movie. We had SO MUCH FUN! We gorged on popcorn and Junior Mints and enjoyed seeing Jacob's abs and Edward's hair three stories tall (WOO FOR IMAX!). We even didn't mind Bella so much as it seems Kristen Stewart has gotten control of the scowling/lip biting for this movie! Hooray! I loved catching up with my sister and having her all to myself for the evening.
And then. Wednesday morning came.
Syd sleeps in a pack-n-play with us in my mom's extra room when we visit. When she pops her little Blonde Tornado head over the side promptly at 6:30 am (5:30 LA time, OUCHIE) we bring her in to bed with us and she is happy to snuggle for an hour or so until we can manage to get up. Usually I can doze off but on this particular morning I had to sternly tell John to "Get her. NOW. NO I MEAN NOW" so I could bolt to the bathroom. I felt ok after my colon, uh, was involuntarily cleansed. Until an hour later when I had to go again. And a 30 minutes after that, again. And then 15 mins later. And then every 15-30 minutes for the rest of the day, my stomach pains and nausea increasing all the while. By 2:30 I was balled up on the couch breathing through the waves of nausea like (this is the scary part) a woman in labor. John called the doctor back home and we got Nurse B's fill-in, who told us to get Mylanta. Off to Target John went. Three hours later, with no change, we called in again and paged Dr. G, who told John that I had to drink some serious liquid in the next hour, take some Immodium, and if I couldn't hold down Gatorade I had to go to the ER for IV fluids. Off to Target John went again.
All the while? My sister is puking her guts out in my mom's bathroom.
All the while? Lily is puking HER guts out across town.
For 45 minutes I chugged down my prescribed 32 oz. of Gatorade. John took Syd to do something fun while my sister (who was feeling better after her doctor prescribed her Zofran as she is taking some serious antibiotics right now and thought this is why she was so sick … she was also told that if she couldn't hold down her pills that she'd have to go to the ER) babysat me. We watched DVRed episodes of Losing It With Jillian Michaels and when John walked back in the door I told him to go ahead and eat his dinner, but I needed to go to the hospital. I couldn't tell anymore if the stomach pains weren't contractions … the nausea would hit every 5-10 minutes and I'd have to breathe through it. It all felt just a little too familiar and I was starting to freak out about the baby.
While we packed up a few things and I changed my clothes, I could feel that I too would soon be, uh, losing it. And I did. All 32 oz. of that yummy orange Gatorade. I'm just glad I chucked before I got to the car.
My sister's boyfriend Mike is a total keeper, by the way. He's from the area originally and knew the best hospital to take me to nearby. He drove us there and took the turns ever so gingerly, dropped us at the ER door, parked, and stayed with us until I was safely in my room in L&D. Even then he only left when we told him it would be a few hours, and he just went to my mom's house and ate ice cream with her while they waited for news. He came to pick us up when I was finally discharged past midnight.
When a pregnant lady comes through the door at the ER, things move fast. The security guard, the person at triage station, the admissions lady – even our sweet orderly who pushed me upstairs in a wheelchair – everyone worked quickly to get me where I needed to be and I bypassed the ER completely (praise God). I was soon in a bed in L&D, and after I gave a urine specimen they hooked me right up to the monitors to check on the baby. Within minutes a nurse reassured me that the baby was fine and in no stress and I was not having contractions. Within 15 minutes I was hooked up to an IV and was given Zofran for nausea. Sweet, sweet, Zofran. Within 15 minutes I felt well enough to eat a cherry popsicle our nurse offered me. We were told that we'd be seen by a resident because we didn't have a doctor locally, but that it would take a while because of a Very Sick Person in the ER. I was fine with that … I was ready to stay put for the night if I needed to and I felt very well taken care of by the lovely L&D nurses (I'm telling you, L&D nurses are WHERE IT'S AT!).
It only took about 15 minutes for the first liter of fluid to drain and then I got a second with some added sugar. The second bag took about 30 minutes and the nurse came in and asked how I was doing and if I had to urinate at all … nope. She was shocked and said, "Well, I guess you're getting a third bag! And you've basically already had the equivalent of a 2-liter bottle of soda!" She hooked up the third bag and we just hung out in the room watching Office reruns and messing around on our phones. We then visited with our young, adorable resident who prescribed more Zofran (YAY!) and told me that as soon as I peed I could go home.
Thirty more minutes passed, the third bag drained, I ate another cherry popsicle and I still didn't have to pee. I felt ready to give it a try anyway. And I DID IT! Not 10 minutes later I was loaded into a wheelchair and ushered out of the hospital and driven back to my mom's house.
Where I spent Thursday and Friday on the couch feeling like utter and complete crap. On Friday my mom got the pukes.
And then we flew home on Saturday.
And that was how I spent my summer vacation.
(Oh and I think Denver has it out for me … I got stomach flu at Sydney's first Thanksgiving there.)