...that saying rings through my mind as I'm lurched awake by the sound of my child in the crib (thankfully next to me) choking on his own vomit. I spring from the bed roll him on his side against his will but in the best interest of his poor little lungs.
when he finally fully wakes up he clings to me while I clean out his crib.
I lay several layers of towels down on my bed (of course he misses them the first time around). Each time I drift off to sleep I am woken by a baby flinging himself on his back and vomiting. WHY does he keep doing that?
By three o'clock, 10 dirty towels, and a two loads of laundry we find a sleep button and set it for three hours. Did I mention that we are laying sideways on my very small bed, my pillow hanging off the edge and Bailey's face so close to mine I can smell the scent of we need a shower and I need some Airborne?
By afternoon and a little help from my mom, Bailey is keeping most of his Pedialyte, milk, and crackers down. The doctor prescribes him anti-nausea medication and he's off to his dad's so I can sleep tonight. (Thank you!)
I hope the little guy sleeps good tonight, he has to be exhausted.
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