Sometimes grace comes in the form of vomit

Three weeks ago today my daughter was born.

On the same day, while I was laboring, Little B was at home vomiting with the stomach flu. Before we came home from the hospital we discovered that A had what we assumed to be a bad cold.  Between the two viruses we were worried for our newborn and put a tremendous amount of effort into keeping the boys separate from her. Two days after we came home from the hospital, Little B came down with the same "cold" virus. A week after we came home A came down with the stomach flu, on top of his cold.  By the time we had been home for two weeks my husband and I had gotten the cold, and so had all the grandparents who had flocked to care for us.  My husband and I had just a minor version but most of the grandparents were very sick. It had been over two weeks so we figured the boys were healthy enough to see and touch and hold their baby sister finally, and if I was sick too there seemed no point in continuing the quarantine.

In the midst of all this we had water leaking into the basement, into the attic, and even a big pond forming one night in our family room.

I got through all of this the same way I got through labor and delivery; when the contraction (or crisis) peaks, throw yourself into it and get through it.  When it abates, even though you know its not over, even though you know a bigger and harder one is coming at any moment - don't panic; relax while you can.  So whenever someone was not actually throwing up or water was not actually leaking and no one new was getting sick and no one was close enough to cough on the baby I made myself stay in the moment and relax, knowing the next crisis was just around the corner.  I pictured bright lights and reminded myself what a privilege it is to be alive and kept the darkness - always so close to a postpartum mother - at bay.  

A few days after we ended the quarantine I got a call from the Pediatrician.  The boys had tested positive for Pertussis.

I still see spots when I remember this conversation.  I hadn't seen this coming at all.

By the time we got this call we were already over the worst of it.  But apparently we were still contagious and had been exposing the newborn especially in the past few days. This was Thursday night and the days since  have been a blur of Doctor's appointments, trips to the pharmacy, being interviewed by the County Health Department, and more calls with still more doctors.  (Parenthetically, I have interacted with some of the most frustratingly unprofessional doctors during this time).  But mostly, me staring at the ceiling in disbelief and enormous anxiety.  Because all these conversations with doctors and health departments cannot help me forget what we all know well - what often happens when newborns and pertussis mix.

As of now, she is still entirely healthy.  We are all taking meds, waiting for our contagion to end, and for the baby's incubation period to end.  And watching very, very closely.  And worrying a lot, despite my best intentions. My "relax between contractions" strategy is no longer working for me.

As if all this weren't enough I woke up last night vomiting - presumably a reaction to the medicine I was given.  Between heaves I said to my husband "we have a lot of challenges right now."

But the bright side is that vomiting has forced me to stay in the present moment so entirely that my anxiety has gone down, a bit.  I'm still watching just as closely, still acting just as carefully to keep germs away.  But not worrying so much as I just try to keep food down in the present moment.

Sometimes grace comes in the the form of vomit.