David caught the signs first.
Sign #1: Sam slept in until 6:40 am. What? Nevermind! Don't question it, just enjoy!
Sign #2: Not as playful in bed with us when I brought him in for some milk and a cuddle.
Sign #3: Projectile vomiting which David literally caught - or tried to - in his hands while reading to Sam before breakfast.
I was surprised that I didn't see it coming too (10 points for dad!), but I certainly made up for my maternal oblivion during the rest of the day. Dad build us a little sick-fort on the couch which consisted of an empty duvet cover laid down to protect the un-barfed upon cushions that remained, a couple of prefolds for extra absorbency if needed, comforts for Sam (his bunny and blanket), and comforts for me (laptop, a book, a cup of tea, the DVD remote). We were set for a day of cuddling and tummy-rubbing.
After barfing again (all over me this time) and having a temperature increase of almost a full degree in two hours, we decided to take him to the doctor just in case. He is after all only 6.5 months old and we were worried about dehydration, etc. His doctor was in today and we barely waited at all - so nice. MD said his ears and lungs are all clear so likely just a stomach bug. Had we introduced any new foods lately? Well Sam tasted formula for the first time yesterday but I don't think it's related. So just wait and watch.
Not the sarcastic kind of no problem which really means What do you mean wait and watch?!? My baby is sick and I can't believe you are not taking this as the most serious and important case you will see today! It was genuinely no problem. I surprised myself a little by being so calm today. Six months ago when I visualized Sam's first illness, I was terrified. I worried that he was too fragile, and I too incompetent, to survive viruses and bacteria. Fast forward to this morning: after leaving the doctor's office I popped into the drugstore for Smarties. Yep. Not for infant Tylenol or a thermometer (ok, because I already have these things at home), but for Smarties. Because that's what my dad would buy me as a treat when I was little and sick. Of course, they weren't for Sam they were for me. It was kind of nostalgic.
So 10 points for me for being cool and calm enough to buy myself treats while my son lay limp and pathetic over my shoulder.
And another 10 - no 20! - for managing to catch round three of vomiting with a single burp cloth thus protecting Sam's jammies and the car seat. Even though it came with such force that some came out his nose. Oh the poor kid : ( He was retching and gagging the way an adult does when they are sick. Then he just slumped back in his seat all glassy-eyed and miserable. That was a bit hard to watch. No more stops along the way, we went straight home after that.
Luckily that was the last bout of puking. He continued to cling to me all morning and into the afternoon, but he was able to nurse and keep everything down. Later he played for a few short bursts, and by dinner time he had some colour back and was showing interest in solid food.
Now he is in bed and other than the occasional dry cough, we haven't heard from him. Though I fully expect it to be a rougher night than usual.
Here is an example of my superior mothering skills: taking photos of my sick kid while he is pale and lethargic. Can you hear the Smarties I am crunching behind the camera?