and the compassion award goes to...
This morning before breakfast was even on the table, I found myself dry-heaving. Over and over and over and over again. The kids didn't notice until they needed something and I wasn't responding. Evan was the first to become concerned. "Mommy? Mommy? Say something, mommy!"
I lifted my face from the aluminum sink long enough to spit out, "I'm okay, Evan," then back below.
Soon Madalyn was aware that something was up and came to stand at my feet, "Mama? Mama? Mama! Mama! Mama, mama!"
And when I recovered and squatted down to hug her in assurance, she buried her tormented face in my shirt with relief. This proves her much more empathetically-advanced than Evan was at her age. When he was her pint-size and I was heaving over the toilet with Madalyn in my stomach, he began to mimic the throwing-up sounds, marching in circles on the bathroom tile like a drum major leading his marching band in a parade- "Uu-ah! Uu-ah! Uuh! Uuh!"
I promise, it's always a shock and more than a little bit humorous to hear an 18-month-old making fun of you.
I realize after all my posts about stomach-upset, you might get the impression I'm very ill. I'm not. I just gag easily. I think two weeks ago, when my mom had to swoop in to the rescue, I had a bug. It hasn't been that bad since that one night. Now it's like the other pregnancies. And I've even had the pleasure of gagging as I walked past a mirror in our house so that I glimpsed a brief view of my monstrous reflexes in all their splendor. And then I even laughed because I thought of my friend Annika gagging in the produce aisle at the grocery store when she was pregnant with Jack. Can't imagine any shoppers felt like fresh produce after viewing that. Apparently, pregnancy hormones soften your digestive tissues and even your esophagus. Isn't the human body fascinating?
