Mummy is not superwoman… She sometimes needs to admit defeat. Illness is one of those reasons. Now, this is never been something I’ve been good at. I never like to admit I’m ill and that’s led to me being rather ill in the past. I can’t make those mistakes again, I have a child now. Anyway, I started writing this a few weeks ago after a horrible bout of food poisoning, but I wasn’t too sure about hitting publish. But, this blog talks about my life, and this was one experience of being a mummy, I hope to never repeat. I know I’m not superwoman, I should have got hubby home sooner…
It was a normal morning we were at a play group, fine, happy, singing along. Ten minutes later I get home, still fine. 15 minutes later I have a few cramps, and think, hmmmm that’s early. Half an hour later I feel terrible, my stomach is a mess, I feel sick in my throat. I go into mummy-coping-mode and get Toddler H a snack, milk and hopefully a nap, she’s had a busy morning…. If this works I can curl up on the sofa and be ok by the time she wakes up, it’s just my crohns or cramps. It works, a miracle, it’s only 11.30am and H is in her cot, she never naps before 3! Where is that sofa?
Half an hour later, I can’t move. If I lift my head, I’ll be sick. It’s been a LONG time since I felt this bad. I phone hubby, and warn him, relieved he’ll come home if I feel worse, I think I can cope, if I’m sick and get this out of my system it’ll be fine. Everyone knows you always feel better after you’ve been sick, don’t you?!
H wakes up, I’ve been sick twice. Yes I feel better after being sick, but it doesn’t last long. I keep thinking it’ll be fine this time, I threw up so much, it’ll be out of my system this time. I phone hubby, I can’t do this all afternoon. I can’t move and H is looking at me funny. She’s 15 months and looking at me weirdly, she bringing me toys. She knows something is not right. But I can cope, I’ll go and be sick if I have to and she can watch cbeebies. Cbeebies solves everything. It’s fine for now, hubby can come home in a hour.
Then it happens, the diahorrea starts, and I run. H screams, she has no idea why mummy ran out the room. Why mummy didn’t take her. Why mummy’s in a ball over the toilet my head in my hands, feeling lightheaded; feeling unbelievable. It’s terrible. I feel terrible I’m reassuring her from the cloakroom toilet, I can see her stood at the living room door stairgate. She calms down and starts posting her toys through. This is not good. I hope hubby arrives soon.
Not quite, it gets worse. Five minutes later, I’m back on the sofa, H is building towers, watching cbeebies and eyeing me suspiciously. I suddenly throw up, I have a bowl beside me, it’s violent throwing up, I’m crying I’m making horrible noises. Toddler H is petrified, she’s screaming so loud, huge tears stream down her face. She’s no idea why mummy’s making strange noises, why mummy is doing strange things. What all that stuff is. I feel terrible because I’m so ill but mummy instinct kicks in: Toddler H is upset, she’s petrified, she’s so scared. I wipe my mouth and cuddle her, I stroke her head, I “shhhhhhhhh” her, I calm her. It’s a distraction from feeling terrible. It’s mummy instinct at it’s best. As soon as she’s calmed down, Hey Duggee is back on repeat, I collapse back. I need hubby, I can’t be sick again with H in the room, I can’t run to the toilet again (turns out I have to), but then he arrives.
I go to bed, lay on his side of the bed, closest to the ensuite. The next few hours are a blur, the cycle repeats and repeats, I can barely move, I can’t function. Then as suddenly as it started it stops, there’s nothing left at all. I stay in bed in a blur, a no energy, no ability, in a not sure it is over trance. A few hours later, I still have no energy to walk down stairs or eat. I have flat coke and water and that is it.
Then I sleep.
It’s a huge responsibility looking after a child, they need attention and to know their mummy as the strong person who looks after them, not the person who scares them or is ill. I felt terrible I scared my poor baby, I never want her to see me like that again. I don’t know what I ate, but something really didn’t agree with me.
Sometimes us mummies, aren’t superwomen, we just aren’t able to cope. We need our superman to rescue us. We just need to give in sooner.
I’m sorry if there’s too much detail here, but I learnt a lesson: yes, I am a SAHM, but that doesn’t mean I don’t need reinforcements in certain circumstances, after all I’m just a mummy.