We made it!

So, in a previous blog post I commented on how excited I was for that last week before taking off to Saint Louis, and I think I jinxed myself and our little family. Last Sunday evening I had just loaded the kids in the car and started the journey to grandma's for dinner, when somewhere on the highway I heard one of the more dreaded sounds of motherhood - the "cough-cough-vomit" sequence. It was Audrey. As she'd been fine earlier that day and showed no other symptoms, I attributed it to a gag reflex, turned the car around, and headed home to swap clothes and carseats. I kept thinking how lucky we were to have an extra seat, and although I thought briefly about just staying home, the kids were excited about seeing grandma and grandpa, and I was honestly looking forward myself to some adult conversation and a good meal.

This time we made it to Benjamin before the sound returned, and we were close enough to Salem it was easier to just keep driving and to clean up at grandma's. Poor baby... I had a change of clothes for her in the car, and when we arrived my mom changed her again while I sprayed out the "spare" carseat. Again, I hoped it was the end. I'm thinking at this point it's a 12-24 hour flu or something even milder, and that she'd start feeling better any minute. I'm such a sucker.

She threw up again twice at grandma's before we headed home for what would turn into a REALLY long night. Poor thing - I still don't know what she had, but rotovirus wouldn't surprise me, and she WAS in nursery that day. With an empty stomach, she continued to dry heave all night long, multiple times an hour. The next day the vomiting stopped, and she sipped some liquids apparently able to keep them down, but she just hung out on the couch all day long. We missed the family Memorial Day walk, which was unfortunate, but I kept thinking she'd perk up eventually. I watched her like a hawk for dry mouth and diapers, or for other signs of being dehydrated. Tuesday showed no improvement, so I took her in to the doctor.

My fears were confirmed when Dr. Later sent us to the hospital to get her admitted, because yes, she was dehydrated. It was a blessing that my dad was at my house watching Izzie and Erick was at a friends' house. My mom was in Orem and was able to pick up the kids and take them to a slumber party at her house for the night while I stayed with Audrey. Frankly, I hate to paint such a gloomy picture, because I know people do worse than this all the time, but with the weeks we'd had already with Justin out of town, I really broke down in the doctor's office and was wishing for a back door to slide through when the nurse walked us over to admitting. No such luck, and I paraded my sick little girl through the office with puffy eyes for all to see.

Sadly, Audrey was dehydrated enough with her tiny veins it took 4 tries before we achieved a successful IV, and after that whenever any nurse or doctor came in to check on her she screamed like a banshee. Totally understandable, don't you think? Anyway, they brought me the extra meals I guess were meant for the patients, which made it nice because I didn't have to leave to forage for food in the cafeteria. Also, of all the strange coincidences, another family of MBAers, the Softleys, was in the room next to us with their little 3-year-old, who'd fallen from a two story window earlier that day. She was fine, luckily, and it was nice to have some company even if we'd both rather not have been there at all!

We were discharged the next day around 3pm and Audrey promptly crashed out on the couch again, which worried me. She slept for almost 4 hours, but finally woke up and begin improving quickly.

However, the next morning (Thursday) Erick threw up twice, and Izzie was running a fever. By that point I had resigned myself to sickness, and actually told Justin as long as we didn't have another trip to the doctor we'd be fine. I should learn not to say anything, I think. Both kids were okay by that evening, but Friday morning at Erick's last day of school "dance festival" I noticed Izzie had broken out in a rash all over her face, chest and back. We left before the final numbers with Erick complaining all the way home. I just couldn't risk spreading anything because I worried it was chickenpox. Yes, she's been vaccinated, but apparently that doesn't mean you can't get a mild case still. With the house a disaster still and trying to get ready to fly Tuesday, I wasn't taking chances. Off we went again to the doctor. They checked for strep and other stuff, I guess, and decided the rash was viral. Whew. That meant it was almost over! After WAY too long at the pharmacy for some antihistamine and cream (why do they stock those almost entirely with candy??? Don't they realize I do NOT what to deal with "mom, can I get a treat?" with my kids for the half hour it takes to get what I came for? Monsters!) we made it home again in time for me to ship Izzie and Erick off to Scofield with grandma and grandpa for the night.

Yes, I should have been packing. Instead, I made a quilt, and it was a lovely break!

Sunday morning I thought REALLY hard before we hauled off to church again. I swear that's where we picked up everything the week before! But the kids really wanted to go their last week, so we compromised and just went to the last two hours. They made primary, and Audrey and I took the sacrament with the later ward. I know, I cheated.

So we were down to Monday only, to get ready to leave Tuesday for Saint Louis. Everyone was healthy again and I was throwing things into boxes right and left. I'm going to regret the way I packed once we get back in the fall and I have to find it all again, but we had a lot to get rid of because we're renting our house for the summer to the family of a professor coming in to teach summer term.

I know this is a really long post, but I can't wind up without mentioning some of the amazing help we received Monday from saintly neighbors. I had just packed and finished the kids' rooms (the easy part), locking them behind me of course, when I heard a knock on the door. It was my wonderful neighbor, Ana, who asked simply what she could do to help. She went to work in the bathroom (of COURSE I was embarassed!) and an elderly lady from across the street called to ask what she could do. I asked if she'd make sure my kids didn't get run over or run off outside, and soon I peeked out the window to see she'd perched her lawnchair on our driveway and was really sitting there watching the kids. I forgot about them from then on, until a few hours later when I realized I hadn't seen any of them for a while. She'd taken them all to her house and they were just hanging out with Georgia. I could have cried! It helped so much to not be worrying about them.

Another friend came soon, Amanda, with her son who is Erick's age. They played outside while she helped us inside the house. All the cleaning help was much appreciated, but I can't overemphasize how wonderful it was just to have people to talk to! I hadn't realized how much I missed that over the past week - I'd really talked mostly to people on the phone, I guess! My dad came over and mowed the lawn for me, a huge job, and Ana's son helped raked the clippings. Ana's husband fixed everyone dinner, and actually had us "call in" our orders. It was really above and beyond because I know they'd already eaten by this time, and fed their own kids.

I should mention here that my own wonderful mother, after having taken over care of my kids for two days of the previous week, had a horrible day herself that day and was unable to be there during all this, although I know she wished she could be. She certainly volunteered more time and effort than is properly represented in this narrative, and volunteered to come in after we left Tuesday to double check the place and tie up some loose ends. Running out the door with kids and suitcases the next day, I realized what a valuable offer that was because I was a little less stressed about the things that were left undone.

As we were walking out the door, Georgia came over to say goodbye and brought some granola bars for the kids for the trip. Now, I know these come six to a box, and she was holding four of them there, so I didn't have the heart to tell her then and there that Erick was allergic to peanuts (which are almost always included). Erick mentioned it, though, of course, and because we were in a hurry to leave I just quickly assured her they would be okay. I mean, they said Oats and Honey, right? No nuts. I guess I sent mixed messages, because when Erick asked if he could have one I told him definitely NOT (because they had nuts in them), but told him it was because we were headed to lunch.

Seriously less than five minutes later I made it back to the car to check seats, only to find Erick with the open granola bar half-eaten. I could have cried standing there, because I had thrown out our expired epi-pen just a few days earlier, vowing to fill the prescription upon our arrival in Saint Louis. It always happens that way. He wasn't throwing up or anything at this point, but my dad was kind enough to run by the doctor's office AGAIN anyway. They called the prescription for the epi-pen down to the pharmacy with the reassuring statement that it could take up to three hours for him to react to the nuts, and we were off again, hoping we wouldn't ground the plane in Denver. It really is nothing short of a miracle that he made it okay, and a little benadryl seemed to make a big difference. I'm not ready to feed him peanutbutter, but this time he made it, although the label clearly said it contained both peanuts and almonds.

So, after that crazy week, we've made it now to Saint Louis and are all together again! It's funny how when it rains it seems to pour, but we were so well taken care of and provided for I can only look back and be insanely grateful. I'm so blessed to have amazing examples of selflessness and service around me, and the love I feel for those who have served us is indescribable. I am one lucky punk, that's for sure. ;-)