Sickies

O has the sickies.

Not the nice, gentle sickies where you sort of have a teensy fever and you feel a little sleepy and your nose runs a bit, or you have a lazy cough. No, no.

He has the 102 degree fever, vomiting, no appetite, can't stay awake, super cranky, totally weepy, snot gushing, diarrhea sickies. And he's had it for two days. And it makes me want to cry.

He doesn't understand things like "virus running its course" or "it will pass soon." He doesn't understand why a snuggle hug from Mommy doesn't fix it. He doesn't understand why all of his orifices are leaking/exploding/dripping. He just understands that he's hot as an oven and his whole body hates him.

These are the moments that I struggle with the most. The moments when my baby, my sweet, gentle boy, is looking at me with wet, red eyes, and all I can do is kiss his forehead and tell him I love him. The moments when I am utterly helpless, and fighting the good fight against a nasty virus means doling out Ibuprofen when the fever gets too high and giving him juice-water and electrolyte popsicles. I hate this. I know I have said it before, and I am willing to bet I will say it again, but I hate it. It's horrible.

Not to mention I almost can't stomach the smell of vomit.

:(