The Super Whites The ordinary life of a Super Mum

The Super Whites
The beer from Beer

This is the beer from Beer. According to the menfolk it was all very nice indeed.

Amy wasn’t very well the weekend we went away. I had mixed feelings about it all, being so far away from our comfort zone (ie. home) and being away with friends that I wanted to be able to fix my attention on. The first night Amy was unsettled, considering she had been crashing out at 7pm for the week we had been away I knew something was up but just attributed it to that crazy old thing called fate where the one night you really want your baby to behave like the angel you have described her as being, she instead acts like a little devil. It took us ages to settle her and she kept waking up and crying inconsolably. This continued through out the night and I eventually went to bed fairly early (about 12ish!) and took Amy into bed with me at about 3am in a desperate attempt to get some sleep. We were both shattered the following morning (Amy and me, Ron crashed out after drinking a lot of beer!) and that was one of the reasons we cut our walk short and went for a drive.

Despite sleeping for nearly two hours in the car, Amy fell asleep again almost immediately after we got home. She has never fallen asleep like this and it was only once she woke up and then fell asleep crying on my chest shortly after that I realised she really wasn’t well at all. The second night was really hard, I was very tired, missing the weekend I was supposed to be having but more than everything I was just very worried about my little baby. This worry almost escalated into panic when she started to vomit later that night. This is a baby who has NEVER vomited. I know, we are incredibly lucky etc etc etc. Not even as a little baby did Amy throw up, she occasionally overflowed if she fed too much but it was more of a dribble than a vomit and so I was completely freaked out. I only had one cot sheet and so was frantically hand washing and drying sheets and towels and trying to hold it all together.
The best thing about staying in the country in a house with your friends is exactly that. We were surrounded by our very special friends who all understood completely that having a sick child is a major distraction. I just felt torn, I really wanted to relax and enjoy chatting over glasses of wine and extended card games of shithead but I was fidgety and worried and anxious and still suffering from a nasty cold myself. Eventually Amy stopped vomitting and our lovely friend Greg who’s entire family has a medical background came upstairs and consoled me. He suggested giving Amy an MOT (car phrase, means a proper once over!) and so we lifted her out of her cot, unpeeled her sleep suit and Greg took her temp, looked behind her ears, gently felt her glands, looked at her little bottom and palpated her tummy. She was lethargic and drowsy and went straight back to sleep when we laid her back in her cot. Greg sat down and told me that although she was clearly unwell, he didn’t think we had cause for concern but that we could call the NHS direct line if we were still worried. Her temp was slightly elevated but she didn’t look dehydrated and she finally took some pain and fever relief when Greg gave it to her.
This was just what I needed to hear. I knew by listening to my mothering instincts that although Amy was clearly not herself, she wasn’t desperately sick, just feeling rubbish and sleeping to self-heal. I had a little cry of relief and exhaustion and then after a good administration of hugs from Ron and our friends, I came downstairs, had a large glass of wine and managed not to lose at a few games of shithead. Amy slept better that night and by Sunday morning she was more herself and even managed a few mouthfuls of weetbix for breakfast.
It was a very special weekend away but it was also really hard. I felt consumed by worry for my child and I really didn’t feel like the Sarah that my friends knew and loved. I felt a (entirely self-imagined!) burden of pressure to almost perform, be funny, chat, have fun when all I really wanted to do was lie on the bed next to my snuffling, sick child and watch her sleep. I was so pleased that of all the places we had to be and of all the people we could have been away with, it was this group of friends because despite me continually saying “she’s not like this usually”, they knew me well enough to give me that hug, or bring me that cup of tea or suggest something and so I never felt like I ruined anyone’s weekend, least of all mine by not feeling quite myself.

Luckily like I said, Amy was much better on Sunday, I had caught up on my sleep and got over the worst of my cold and we still had two days to enjoy. I made sure to catch up as much as possible, playing loads of Wii, drinking copious cups of tea/glasses of wine and spending much needed time talking to special friends.

(why the face Sarah, why?)
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