
She laid out her pajamas, a change of clothes and her toiletries, and carefully packed each item into her cinch sack. She tucked her pillow into it. She didn’t want any of her friends to see her blanket, so she shoved it down into the sleeping bag to hide it. (She had read about doing this in her American Girl book on Feelings.) She grabbed a few books in case she woke up earlier than the other girls.
“I’m ready,” she said, beaming. She gave me a thumb’s up. “I’m ready to go to the sleepover.”
My big girl, I thought to myself. I’m so proud of her.
I would have been even more excited but I was feeling a little queasy. When the phone rang at 8:30 p.m. that evening and the birthday girl’s mom was on the other end, I had an even worse feeling. I heard my husband answer her.
“Oh, no,” he said to her. “Oh, man. Is she okay? No. No, I will be right over.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“She threw up,” he said.
“Oh, no,” I said.
She had only been at the party for three hours.
I worried this would happen but thought Lily was in the clear. Aimee got the stomach flu on Thursday. To protect Lily I made her sleep in the guest room for the next two nights. “Stay away from your sister,” I said. “You don’t want to get this, too.”
My instructions were hard for both of them to follow. When they are at home the two of them are practically inseparable. When Aimee found out Lily was going to a sleepover she asked if she could sleep in her own sleeping bag that night too. (On the floor of our room, of course.) Lily stayed away from her sister and whenever she touched anything of Aimee’s she ran and squirted a glob of hand sanitizer into her palms. She seemed perfectly fine when my husband dropped her off at the party.
After Lily got home and told me what happened I called the birthday girl’s mom (who has become a friend of mine) and apologized profusely. “I would never have sent her if I had any idea she was going to be sick,” I said. “I am so sorry and I hope no one there gets sick, too.”
My friend was gracious and wonderful. She actually got teary when she told me how Lily, who was devastated when she realized she had to leave the party, broke down and cried and simultaneously apologized to her. “She is so innocent,” my friend said to me. “She felt so bad for throwing up.”
I felt just as bad. I’m the kind of mom who keeps my kids home an extra day so they don’t infect anyone at school. Like I said, I would never, ever have sent her to the party if I thought she might be sick. But this illness came on quickly without warning. Even when Aimee got it she was happy and fine that day. She even ate as voraciously as usual. Just before bed she announced, “My tummy feels weird.” Half an hour later she vomited.
I got to know firsthand just how powerful this illness could be. Right after my husband left to pick her up I got the first wave of nausea. “Oh, crud,” I thought to myself. “My turn.” For three hours I ran to the bathroom every 10 minutes. I hadn’t felt this way since pregnancy. This nausea, however, was much, much worse. The stomach flu is an evil beast.
Lily didn’t seem to have it as badly as I did, but I made her sleep bed with me that night and told my husband to sleep in hers so he wouldn’t get ill, too. She was so exhausted I had to hold her up so she could get sick. She barely woke up and I had to use all my might to lift her weak body. I cared for her the entire night long while also trying to nurse myself back to health. I hope none of you ever have to care for your sick kid while you are sick, too. It totally sucked.
And I did it all for nothing, it turns out. Yesterday my husband got the bug, too.
Damn you, stomach flu. Damn you to hell.
Photo by Kriss Szkurlatowski, courtesy of stock.xchng