Sunday morning, I really wanted to make it to church. It'd been over a month with moving and everything going on... And I had a meltdown the Sunday before because I was struggling to adjust to the move.
My son, instead of hopping out of bed after cuddles like normal just lounged on me and I could tell he wasn't feeling well. I had a headache so I assumed he might too since he didn't feel feverish at all.
I got up and carried him downstairs to check on everyone else. Still he wanted to just lay down. He kept asking for food but also for "bed" with Mommy.
After I had helped my daughters, I headed back up the stairs to get him some breakfast, but he didn't want anything at all. So I decided I'd bring him back to bed with me and I would watch church online and stay home with him.
As I carried him into my room, he began to gag... OH NO! I knew what was coming next...
Confession: I don't do good with vomit. My poor baby was sick and cried and reaching for me but I turned him over so he could throw up not on me and tried to comfort him as best as I could.
|Photo Credit: amotherfarfromhome.com|
I washed the blanket he'd been sick on, holding him the whole time. Then snuggled down in bed with him as we listened to the worship music floating out of the computer speakers. I missed church and worship and being there, but here I was, holding my baby, being a comfort to him.
Having a sick baby/kid is awful! But what a gift it is that we can bring some comfort to our children when they are hurting. That we get to be the ones to help them when they hurt (even if we don't do puke well), to clean up the messes, and to make them feel loved when they feel their worst.
It's a privilege.
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