Sick Baby

So, Brigid was sick this weekend. Sometime Saturday evening, while sitting on the couch at Steve's parents' house, she just suddenly started vomiting. Which, you know...fun.

The kid hadn't ever thrown up before, so this whole thing didn't go over too well with her. And it got worse as it kept happening, every 30-60 minutes through the evening, to the point that she'd start screaming 'no pot!'  at the pot she was getting sick in, as if it were the pot that was bringing on the sickness.

Poor, poor child.

Her and I ended up spending the night sleeping on the floor, because it was the only place I could get her comfortable enough to fall asleep. When I tried moving her to her crib later that night, she worked herself up so much, I was afraid she'd make herself sick all over again. And I definitely did not want that.

Poor, poor mom.

She woke up, seemingly better the next morning, although still pretty reluctant to eat or drink anything. She went down for a nap with no complaint (after sleeping on the floor all night, I can't say that it didn't seem like a good idea, to me, too...), and when I got her up from that nap, she was burning up and covered in hives.

Woo!

We took her to the urgent care office down the street from our house, and they checked a few things on the kid, before telling us she seemed mostly fine, and sending us home with an order for a Benadryl dosing. The hives disappeared, then came back. We washed everything she touched, including Steve, who had worn aftershave for some reason that day, when he normally never, ever wears aftershave around us. EVER.

The fever went down, then came back up, then went down again. We kept her up until almost 11pm to make sure the hives weren't getting worse, then checked on her at midnight to make sure the fever didn't need a dose of ibuprofen. She seemed fine, though, so we let her sleep.

And then, this morning? Nothing. At all. She's back to her perfectly normal, if slightly whiny, self. Go figure.

And do you want to know what the worst part of all of this is? Yesterday, she wanted nothing to do with Steve. Nothing. She wanted me to hold her, read to her, bathe her, brush her hair, etc. All mommy, all of the time.

This morning, she woke up asking for daddy. And she hasn't stopped asking for him since. So that's awesome. Sick baby wants mommy, fun baby wants daddy.

Go figure...