Wednesday, July 29, 2009

I have been baptized . . .

My sister will get a kick out of this.

Last evening I go to pick up my daughter. I had 3 important things that needed to get done and that was the first of the three. Lately she has been putting off leaving the daycare because she wants to play with this toy or show me what she learned from this show or some other such thing. I pick her up, chat with the workers about the day she's had. I look at her sheet and see that she only ate 25% of her lunch. For the last two weeks she has been eating everything that has been put in front of her and more so a 25% lunch report is odd. It's not the first time something has been odd in her pattern but I blew it off an hoped that meant she would eat her dinner.

I walked her out to the car and plopped her down in her car seat as usual. I reached around and clipped the chest piece of her harness together. I clipped in the left side of her lap belt. I clipped in the right side of her lap belt and it was like I hit the button on Ol' Faithful. Pink curdled stuff came spewing out of my daughter and into her lap. The fortunate think is it was more of a gush than a projectile vomit but still I wondered what she'd had that was pink.

We still had about 10 to 15 minutes to get to the house, she was covered, her chair was covered and I have never been able to deal with the smell of expelled stomach contents. Which is why my sister would have paid money to see this all go down. When we were kids she would always have to clean up after me because I couldn't handle it. It has been the event she has been waiting for to see me deal with as a mom because she knows my history, intimately.

I didn't know quite what to do. I unbuckled her seat belt and took off her shirt and tried to clean her up as best as possible with the extra t-shirt I had tucked in a safe place just in case. I clipped her back in to her seat. I could have gone back in and asked for a change of clothes I left there for her but the seat was still covered so I'd only be getting more stuff drenched in "it". I decided to open the windows and b-line it home.

When we got there I didn't even think twice before I picked her up, chunks and all. As I saw it there was no way to get out of this with out getting some on me so I might as well dive in. I dragged her car seat inside as well. She was still trying to drink fluids and eat fish crackers but everything that went down came back up 10 to 15 minutes after it went down. I felt so bad for her. I remember how scary it was to be sick as a kid. Fortunately she probably won't remember this but unfortunately it won't be the last time. Every thing that came up, consequently, found it's way down the front of my shirt and gathered in my cleavage. (Not that I have much cleaved there but that is another story for another time.) After a while the contents were narrowed down to just water or watery juice.

Her tummy was so sour that she wasn't able to fall asleep for a long time. Finally around 9pm I prayed that God would settle her tummy enough that she could go to sleep. She drifted off. She woke up two more times, once ralfing on her bed sheets so I laid her on my bed for a while. The next time she woke up we made it to the tub. I could tell she was ready to be done with puking. I gave her her some water and as I gave it to her I prayed, "Lord, you are the God of healing, if you can make the deaf hear and the blind see I know that you can settle the stomach of this small child. I have faith that you will place your hand on her and make her tummy still."

She didn't wake up or throw up the rest of the night. All I can say is it may not be parting the red sea but it is God showing even the smallest of those he loves that he will be faithful to heal them. And showing their mommys he will answer prayers, even in the middle of the night.

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