At 2:30 this morning, Liev discovered that his new crib bumper was the work of the devil. Dazed, Egor took him downstairs for Jell-O as I cursed and struggled with the fabric ties on the bumper. Nausea struck me. By the time I settled the baby down to sleep, I nausea had incapacitated me. Dizzy and sick, I rousted Egor to whip me up a glass of stomach medicine his mom had brought from Russia–she knew that I kept picking up tummy bugs from Liev and thought it might help.
So, my next few hours were spent fretting that the unknown medicine would kill me in my sleep, especially since my belly cramped painfully (subsequent research revealed that the substance is as harmless as charcoal). At 6:20, when Egor came in to wake me for the morning routine, I told him I was too sick and that he would have to get Liev ready for school by himself.
Throughout the history of humanity, a more shocked expression of a man’s face has never existed! It was as if I had told him he needed to amputate my left leg with a butter knife while singing “America the Beautiful.” To add to the comedy, he donned his favorite hoodie backward.
I felt so miserable; I didn’t even laugh. I fell back asleep after answering countless questions and reminding Egor a dozen times to not forget Liev’s blankie.
I recovered enough in the afternoon to get out of bed and make my way downstairs where Tanya helped with Liev, who once again skipped his nap. I let go of my expectations to do all the mothering and trekked back upstairs for more sleep. I cannot fathom the amount of illness that has passed through our house. Were our physicals and doctor’s visits not so sound, I would wonder if we would be on a future TLC program on medical mysteries.