Here it goes:
Bonnie sleeps in our bed. I love being able to cuddle my babe all through the night. I may even be able to say that I love the restful nights I get by doing so even more. Anyway though, whenever she wakes up, I just pull her close to me and feed her. This is usually a perfect situation- she falls back to sleep, and therefore I fall back to sleep. Works like a charm every time... Well, except for last night.
So in the middle of night, I pulled Bonnie close and she started to eat. She must have been asleep for quite awhile before that because she started to experience "the flood" of milk- so much that she started to gag. Oh no. Please, please no. And then cough, cough, whoosh, I then experienced "the flood" of milk, otherwise known as throw up.
Both my shirt and the sheets underneath me were sopping in warm liquid. Bonnie somehow was dry. (She has perfected the projectile technique in her short 2.5 months of life.) As I lay there, my eyes so tired I could barely keep them open, I thought, "Why me? Why this? Why now?" I got up, noticed how my baby was somehow now sound asleep, noticed how Jeff was still sound asleep, and left them both to change my shirt.
Now the question remained- Do I wake them both up by turning on the light, getting them out of bed, removing the wet sheets and mattress cover, putting on clean sheets, and praying that Bonnie will fall easily back to sleep? My tired self answered with a "Um, I don't think so."
So I solved my problem with the next best thing- two towels. One to soak up as much milky puke as I could, and one to lay right underneath us. Yes, on top of the remaining puke.
And that's how we slept.
Honestly, this decision felt absolutely logical in the dead of the night last night. Completely logical until I woke up this morning and remembered why I was laying on top of a towel.
Yup, that happened last night. I slept with puke.
#momlife
But gosh, she's so worth it.
No comments:
Post a Comment