So Not Invincible

The flu hit me last night after many sick-free years. And it made up for lost time. It's 1:00 p.m. and the first time I've left the couch for more than a bathroom run or a pedialyte run. I can't believe how good it feels to sit upright.

Our girls had a great weekend - their bug from the Thursday all-nighter seemed to have been short-lived. Monday at daycare, though, Lillian tossed her breakfast and both girls had icky pants all day. For the first time, I thought luck was with us. They had a scheduled doctor appointment for checkups and flu shots. No double co-pays due to timing being off a day or two. Ha - fate was playing a big mean trick on me. The girls are fine, by the way. And Lillian finally topped 20 pounds - 21 pounds even! Breanna came in at 24 - woo hoo!

Anyway, last night I ate an apple and then got ready for bed. When I laid down, I thought I possibly recognized a glimmer of queasiness. At 12:30, my wretched night began.

As I once explained to my friend, Lettuce, I can't think of anything more gross than puking in a toilet. Buckets are great - they're clean, they're portable, and they're easy to wash out. Plus, no butts have been in them (at least I hope!). So last night, I had three buckets handy - one next to the bed, one next to the tub, and one next to the couch. And like clockwork, every hour and a half I needed one.

Up until now, I've always been pretty ok with ralphing. It's quick and awful and then you move on. However, puking with a big pregnant tummy is a completely different story. The baby kicked and kicked, often stirring more nausea. And when I was yakking, the contractions were crazy. I have the goosebumps just thinking about it.

It will be quite a while before I eat another apple. Or anything with substance, for that matter. In the meantime, weak decaf tea and oyster crackers are my new best friends. Happy stinkin' Tuesday.