I was kind of flip about this yesterday, but our Little Miss Sunshine is actually very, very sick. We’re into day four now of The Flu and that makes four days since she’s been able to keep anything down, even water. Last night, as she lay sobbing in Sir Monkeypants’ arms because her bum hurt so much from ongoing diarrhea, and I was folding in my sixth load of barfy clothes for the day, I made the switch in my head from “riding it out” to “really, really worried.”
We’re sure it’s just the flu, but she’s starting to show signs of minor dehydration. We took her in to the doctor this morning and if she doesn’t pee by noon, we’re off to CHEO. She did finally manage to drink a few ounces of juice this morning so we’re hopeful that she’s finally turned a corner.
It’s amazing how quickly something like this can zoom your focus. Last night as I was rocking her to sleep, all thoughts of PTA stuff and laundry to do and grocery shopping were completely gone — I just wanted to hold my baby and make her better, somehow.
I actually even said a little prayer. I’m not a religious person, and in general I feel that any higher powers out there are too busy to consider personal requests. But it’s very hard when someone you love very, very much is very, very sick to sit back and accept that there just isn’t anything you can do. You have to do something.
I think God heard me. I know she’s going to be okay.