Do I have a story for you.
Here's Emma and Maggie at the hospital on the day we brought Gretta home. What a wonderful day it is, bringing home a new baby. They're so sweet and vulnerable. Well, notice in the picture that both big sisters are looking a little pale. I should have known to stay an extra night in the hospital. The paleness should have been a dead give away for what was awaiting me that fateful night.
Here I am, a new mom for the third time, two days post op, and battling a particularly heinous bout of the baby blues. As I lay crying in bed at 2 AM, wondering what I was thinking having a third child, and knowing in my heart that I have ruined all our lives by doing so, in walks Emma. Now, Emma is a known early riser, but this was especially early, even for her. She then announces she doesn't feel so well. I ask her if she's gonna throw up, and she says she doesn't think so. I tell her to get her bowl anyway, just in case. About 10 steps around the bed later, and out it comes, all over my bedroom floor. Now I know I've ruined our lives. I burst into tears, just knowing that Emma is going to give Gretta some tropical disease that will kill her, and Sean calmly cleans up the mess. Now in addition to me feeding the baby every hour, and crying constantly, Sean is up emptying the barf bowl every 10 minutes for the rest of the night. At the doctor the next morning, we find out she has Strep. Again. 10th time this year. No kidding. But they assure us that Gretta can't get it, so we both feel better about that.
Skip ahead a few hours to 6 PM that night. Here I find Maggie curled up in a ball on my bedroom floor, cheeks flushed with fever, and shivering. I just knew it. Strep. Sure enough, thanks to late night KidsCare, she has it too. Now I have two kids with strep, a brand new baby that I'm trying to nurture, and me with the baby blues. Thank goodness for Sean, who ran to get prescriptions, Ginger Ale, and various other necessities, who cleans up vomit with no complaint, and who rubs my back while I cry for the next 3 days. I knew I loved him for a reason.
So needless to say, I'm pretty sure that was the absolute worst situation imaginable to come home to, and I don't plan on doing it again any time soon. We've all recovered nicely, and the baby blues have passed. I think we're all to the point now where we can't imagine not having Gretta around, and that's a nice feeling. Not nice enough that I will do it again, but nice nonetheless.
