For some reason, I used to have a very romantic notion of what having a sick baby would be like. I pictured snuggling my little sicky on the couch while she slept all day long, waking up only to eat and whimper softly. I would forget all my other responsibilities so I could focus on my poor little angel (and, of course, Netflix).
Intellectually, I knew that having a sick baby probably wouldn't be like this at all. But hey, a girl can dream.
What I really didn't expect was having to cart my sick baby all over the place. We sat on the couch and snuggled even less when she got sick. Instead, we were taking her to the doctor twice a day and getting blood tests and buying medication. The poor girl hardly even got to sleep. I didn't think it could get any worse.
Of course, it did get worse.
Then I got sick--with the flu. That totally blew my trust in the doctor who insisted that my daughter's persistent vomiting was due to an ear infection. I was so sick I had to pass my child off to my sister-in-law for half the day until my husband could leave work and take her to the doctor again. I didn't think it could get any worse.
But yes. It did get worse.
That night, my husband got the flu, too.
So we all spent our Saturday in bed drinking Powerade and the non-flavored baby equivalent of Powerade (yes, such a thing exists).
Let's review: Baby pukes all day. The next morning, I'm also puking. The next day, her dad is also puking.
And supposedly, these things are not related?!
Whatever. I'll get off my soapbox now.
Needless to say, my first experience with a sick baby was not at all similar to my little sick-baby fantasy.
Maybe it'll happen when she's a toddler...