We made it through December relatively unscathed, but January turned out to be a bit much.
Poor Bjørn has been completely incapacitated twice this month by some evil, miserable virus. From the first round a domino effect came into play — first one man down, then two, then three, then a slow resurrection, then down again… It’s been crazy. In some miracle of immunity I don’t quite understand, I withstood the first round (as well as the round the month before), but as of last week Wednesday my luck ran out. I sat on the couch that afternoon across from my convalescing husband giving myself the pre-barnehage pick-up pep talk: ”Okay. It’s going to be okay,” the next 20 minutes interspersed with randomly placed out-loud ”Okay”s. Interesting how the ”I’m about to get sick” anxiety set in hours before the first physical symptoms.
Does anyone else have these mild anxiety attacks at the prospect of both parents being sick at the same time? I mean, I feel like I’m pretty good at managing my resources, but I draw a blank on that particular scenario.
So we’ve spent a good portion of January in our pajamas (which is like a dream come true for Karel). Thus I’ve spent a good portion of January watching the layers of dust in all but the most necessary portions of the house grow and trying not to freak out about it. The problem with being mom-sick seems to be that sometimes it’s just your body that gives out. Or both body and mind give out and you can’t move for a day, but after about 24 hours your brain starts going again while your body just can’t. Oh, the THINKING! Good Lord have mercy, make the thinking stop. Evidently once no longer physically able to do the very physically demanding jobs of my housewifey world, my brain goes into overdrive remembering all the other things I was going to do. Take a class, find a job, write an article, blah, blah, blah. But doing those things STILL takes energy that you DON’T HAVE…so let’s launch into another wave of guilt and anxiety over things not accomplished. (insert eye roll.) Then, at the time you need sleep the most, nightime insomnia-born-of-anxiety sets in, because in this crazy world-of-germs it seems better to just stay awake than to fall asleep just to be woken up by coughs or cries or people falling out of bed.
Seriously. It’s ridiculous.
On the other hand, it hit me for the first time during this month of revolving door viruses that my future is going to hold a whole lotta man-sickness.
Once again, good Lord have mercy.
Bjørn is an undemanding patient; granted, when he’s down he’s down, but other than allowing him rest, he doesn’t ask for much. Karel, however, seems to be heading down the more typical mansick path. Not feeling good is met with wails of ”Oh, what is happening to me?” as if he’s suddenly discovered green plaques all over his body. Or panicked outburst inches outside the bathroom: ”I just can’t walk anymore”. My favorite so far is the politely worded yet pathetically toned: ”Mama, I really need you to help me a lot today,” uttered by the young master languishing on the couch, requesting ”warm drinks” that are lovingly prepared but then never drunk.
Emil Birk is slightly less dramatic so far, but just as clingy. He’s developed a TV addiction that we’ll have to deal with later, as well as an affinity for the saying the word ”no” while interestingly enough completely disregarding it when it’s said by someone else. Ricocheting back and forth between acting as comforter and terrorizer of his older brother is his other main activity.
The little guy in utero is kicking around as strong as ever, despite the demise of his family all around him. But he, too, adds another dimension to being momsick. What do you get when you pair sudden coughing attacks with a weak, squished, bladder? Let’s just say it’s not only peed-in little boy underwear making up our laundry pile these days.
Anyway, I’m on round two of the crud now, brought on no doubt by a combination of exhaustion and residual viral bits in my system. So this time I’m doing my best to turn my brain off and concentrate solely on recovery and baby-growing.
Here’s to a healthy February!
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