I am now a week post-stomach riot, and while I am feeling significantly better, my stomach is quick to remind me it has the upper hand. It’s like, “yeah, I’m not going to refund everything you put in me, but I could. DON’T FORGET IT.” It’s basically a giant bully.
The stomach riot started last Monday right before we were going to leave Mike’s parents’ home. It’s a six and a half hour drive from their house to ours, and that’s if you don’t stop. On the way up to their house, we timed it perfectly – we fed Annie, drove three hours, stopped so we could all eat, then drove the rest of the way. We were going to do the same thing for the drive home, but then the riot started out of nowhere. There MAY have been a Charlotte in Mexico “Sex And The City” movie incident (and that’s ALL I will say about that, OMG).
We really needed to get home, so I told Mike I wanted to attempt the drive. I folded myself into a ball next to Annabel’s car seat and commanded Mike to drive. I was careful to keep Annie’s diapers close. I did well for a while…but then the rumbles and nausea started again. Have you ever tried to not poop yourself? It’s surprisingly difficult.
We had to stop a few times when I just couldn’t take it anymore. At one point I laid on the ground at a rest stop, staring up at the squirrels in the tree branches. I’m pretty sure one of the squirrels was about to start talking to me, but Mike interrupted and said, “you know, we have a car with seats that recline. You could lay in that.”
Parts of the drive are a blur. Literally, because my head was hanging out the window of the car while I puked. It takes skill to do that at 80 65 miles an hour. At other points in the drive my head was practically in Annie’s lap. Like somehow I expected her to be able to rub my head. I considered borrowing her pacifier. WHAT. It settles HER stomach!
I started doing some breathing exercises, and I told Mike to just keep driving, that as long as I didn’t move I could make it home. He agreed, and then about 30 minutes later he pulled off the highway.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”I shrieked
“I have to go to the bathroom,” he replied.
“Oh, sure. Stop to empty your little pregnant lady sized bladder, Mikey. I’ll just keep sweating like crazy trying to keep from pooing!” I might have been shrill.
When he came back out a few minutes later, he had a giant box of Ritz crackers and a pack of beef jerky. It’s like he was TRYING to make me throw up more. I switched to mouth breathing.
When we were a bit past the halfway point, I almost gave up. I told Mike that I needed to stop, and that we could go to my friend Meghan‘s house. As he was pulling off the highway he asked, “How long will you need at Meghan’s?”
I replied, “oh, if we stop, we’re staying all night.”
He jerked the car back onto the road, “forget that! We’re close to your parents’ house! You can make it!”
That’s pretty much when I started crying and saying, “I waaaaaannnnnnt myyyyyyy mooooooooooom.”
After what felt like a million more hours, we finally arrived at my parents’ house, and I took up residence in their bathroom. I think some of my mail is still being delivered there.
I lost about 10 pounds of water weight just from sweating in the car. My skinny jeans still don’t fit.
Today is the 11th, which means that 11% of all sales from Kinga’s Kreations will be donated to Friends of Maddie, and $10 from the sale of each Maddie Bracelet will be donated no matter what day it is!