My niece! or: Pictures of my Sicky Kid!

My little sister had a baby! Read all about it here!

6:00pm- Alison called to say she was being emergency induced due to preeclampsia.

8:30pm- Isaac and I are in the car for the 3 hour drive to Traverse City, braving it on our own since Ryan is in Florida for work. Much like Alison’s husband is away for work… in Vegas… a good 4 hour flight away.

10:30pm- I try to drink a little of the Coke I grabbed in case I needed to stay awake from the Christmas sock my grandma makes us each year. Remembered why I don’t drink pop: it tastes disgusting. (Unless it is involved in a Captain and Diet situation in which case something REALLY fun is about to happen anyway if it pulled me away from the standard glass (or 2) of Merlot.) Decided instead to play Jason Mraz.

11:30pm- Arrive at hospital. Nurse tells us that Isaac can’t come back to Alison’s room. Ever. I give her the stink eye and a dramatic sigh. She gives me the stink eye back and throws in, “It is CLEARLY marked on the hospital door.” I think about hospital dooring her in the FACE, but… I don’t. My dad plays with Momo in the waiting room while I visit with Alison.

1:30am- I sleep fitfully with a 3 year old in a queen size bed who wants nothing more than to sleep with as much of his body touching me as possible.

7:00am- I wake up unwillingly because my leach-like, albeit cute, son wakes up. I am desperate for a PBS Kids babysitter but… the tv is broken. I call the front desk and they send a maintenance man up. On his way up, Isaac says, “Actually mom, you just have to push this button a little harder. Here- let me show you.” Thankfully, he was wrong, or the 20 year old maintenance guy would have come up to see my non-undereye concealered eyes and crazy bed hair caused by aforementioned suction child for naught. We eat graham crackers in bed and watch Super Why.

9:00am- Momo sketches with my dad and we go out to breakfast while my mom visits Alison whose husband has now flown back and who is still laboring and waiting.

9:30am- (The beginning of the end.) At breakfast, my reliable bottomless pit of a child eats two bites of oatmeal and nearly falls asleep on my lap.

10:30am- We get back to the hotel and I put him down for a nap. I go visit Alison for a bit while my dad watches Isaac. While in the room with her, a nurse suggests I leave so she can get some rest. I tell her that if she makes me leave I will punch her in her face. She seems a little taken aback and asks me if I would want to be responsible for wearing her out and making her have a stroke from the preeclampsia. (As I am typing this my blood is boiling again.) THEN I said that I will literally fight to the death anyone who tells me what is best for my sister. She seriously looks me up and down at this point, trying to decide if I am bat-sh*t crazy and need to be thrown out. I tell her that I wouldn’t literally kill her, but I would seriously punch someone in the face. Alison is much calmer than I, even while in labor, and is POSSIBLY irritated and embarrassed at me acting Crazy Town, (I’m not exaggerating with anything I said. Those things came out o’ my mouth that way and it was NOT a good choice in my attempts to show Jesus to people… fail), but I was tired and I wanted to see my sister and I don’t like being told what to do when LADY, you don’t even KNOW me! Stupid hospital.

11:30am- I get back to the hotel and Maj has just woken up. And he looks… tired. I put him back to bed and he sleeps for a while more.

12:00pm- He wakes up and says, “I’m gonna frow-up.” And he does. Through his nose and the whole deal- into the ice bucket. And then frows-up some more. And then passes out again. On me. I watch Sex and the City reruns for a good two hours while he sleeps- a sweaty little furnace.

2:00pm- He wakes up and I reluctantly switch the SATC to some lame cartoons which neither of us like. I am in a festering cess pool of germs with no way to open a window. My mom brings some Children’s Tylenol. I give him a lukewarm bath. That goes over about as well as you’d expect it to. He settles in to watch crap cartoons and puke a few more times. (And tells me in the middle of taking this picture to stop taking pictures of him. Which is a valid point, except that with as much as I love my child, I am also a writer and can see this blog post formulating in my head. I stop… after one more.)
3:00pm- Maj tells me he feels better. And he stops puking so he kind of does. I decide to go home despite the fact that I’ve only seen my sister about 20 minutes total and she still hasn’t had the baby. I’m not going to risk a) getting her or the baby sick by staying to visit later or b) getting the same bug and spending another day in a Holiday Inn bed covered in graham crackers and- let’s be honest- some puke spots. (There is also a viable option c regarding avoiding any run-ins with the nurse I accidentally/on purpose threatened.) We wait out any more possible barfs and…
5:30pm- Leave for home. Although Isaac promises to keep me awake, he falls asleep 10 minutes in.
7:00pm- We stop for dinner. There are… no choices. We go to McDonald’s. I get… wait for it… a Quarter Pounder with Cheese, a small fry, and an Oreo Blizzard. AND I eat the fries from Momo’s Happy Meal because they aren’t good for him. So… if you know me at all- that dinner says more than any blog post could  cover as to my emotional state. Conversation worth noting:
Isaac: “Mom, what is that?” (Leading question because he OBVIOUSLY knows that it is…
Me: “Ice cream.”
Isaac: “Is it for you?”
Me: “Yep.”
*5 second pause*
Isaac: “Hey mom! Want to share ice cream?”
(I do not. Remember, not healthy. I am eating it for his health.)
9:30pm- My mom calls to say that Alison had a little girl. Hooray! Yes, that’s right! That’s why we went up there in the FIRST place!
9:30pm: We get home. Fever has set back in a bit and he is exhausted from our ridiculous, though well intentioned, trip. He wants to sleep with a bowl which- thankfully- he doesn’t end up needing. And THAT, friends, is the story of my niece’s birth. Happy birthday, Morgan! Read this when you’re older to know how much we love you! (Especially the part about the McDonald’s binge-fest. Because that there, little girl, was some serious grief-eating over missing you and your mama. Did you see that I had TWO sets of fries?!)
Share this:Share on FacebookTweet about this on TwitterEmail this to someonePin on PinterestShare on Google+

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *