This week has been tough. Really tough. In fact possibly harder than when the little guy was born. I know toughness is all relative but I’ve felt sad, useless, anxious and sorry for my little Piglet for most of the week.
It started on Saturday tea time when she refused her tea and I knew something was up. 100% I know my girl; when she refuses food there is an issue. I knew she was going to puke. Hubby and I reflected afterwards, why did we not put her to sleep on some towels? I was literally just about to pour myself a glass of wine and my gut feeling told me to check on Piglet. She was sleeping in the spare room and I peeked in to be greeted by that aroma. Your heart sinks. That smell is familiar and makes you gag. Vom. It was bloody everywhere. I called up hubby where we proceeded to shower the poor little girl and get her into her towel covered bed.
Sorting out your toddler and all the mess, even with two parents (single parents I salute you) and a screaming, tired newborn is so hard. I jumped between the little guy and Piglet, as hubby sorted the bed, bleached the bathroom and I scrubbed my hands ten billion times. Luckily Piglet only had two more pukes that night (one water induced) and we all managed to get some sleep.
I expected her to rally, bounce back and be her usual self in a day or so. I was sadly wrong. The poor girl has been the illest I have seen her since she had bronchiolitis as a 3 month old. We have had a good 4-5 days camped on the sofa. She has struggled to eat and drink; been sick very randomly in the middle of the week and has slept a lot. I have never seen her watch so much television. Her little arms and legs have started to waste away with 5 days of poor eating. Her lips are sore and chapped and her little bum is so red from dehydration and concentrated urine. She has been such a sorry little state.
Nursery didn’t happen this week but this has made it very hard, as the little guy decided he was going to hit a growth spurt and has been surgically attached to me, feeding or sleeping. With the combination of this and trying to keep him away from my sick little girl, I’ve barely been able to cuddle her.
I’ve felt so guilty! So guilty. I’ve watched Piglet’s sad little eyes staring at me, as I’ve fed her brother or had to pick him up for the billionth time or let him sleep on me. She’s not really gone near him. I was so grateful for my Mum coming over on the Tuesday and literally holding Piglet all day, even though she did get puked on! Oops. It made such a difference for her and I could look after her little brother.
It was something I have never dealt with before, as the gremlin wasn’t that ill when her sister was a baby but juggling a poorly toddler and a newborn has been really tough.
I know little Piglet won’t remember this. She’s only 2 and a half and she is almost better, starting to eat again and cheer up. The weekend has come and hubby has been able to look after the little guy a lot more.
I know these moments as a parent tend to be fleeting and they pass. You move on. You forget about them. You forget about how much TV they have watched and how much time has been sat on the sofa. You forget about all the plans you have cancelled.
They are just rough at the time. Hard work and heart wrenching.
I missed my happy girl this week.