Ramona was sick last week. Tuesday night, as I was singing her bedtime song to her, I caught a look of surprise in her eyes; then, vomit. And then, hours spent sitting by her bed with a bucket. Around 1:30 a.m., she was finished for the night, though she threw up again the next afternoon around nap time.
This was her first stomach bug, and that night as I sat by her bed, as 8:00 turned to 10:00, as I laid out a pallet to sleep on, as I held out the bucket in the dark at 11:45, I saw myself being inducted once again into motherhood. Honestly, it wasn’t so bad, just gross. Still though, it was a moment of change, a time when I realized I have a young child, no longer a baby. Which somehow surprised me and also made me feel satisfied. Knowing I’ll probably not have any other children helps me to be mindful even in the yucky, tiring moments of motherhood.
The most surprising part to me is that I didn’t get sick. My husband got sick, my mother got sick, both my mother-in-law and my father-in-law got sick (sorry, all, for spreading the bug). But somehow, I stayed well. This seems inexplicable, but I’ll take it, knowing full well there may be another time when I’m not so lucky!