Dear Kurt,
I am alive!!!
Okay, I know that is slightly dramatic, but I did feel like it was touch and go there for a while.
So, here is how the last few day's went down:
After some great Easter fun we made our way home with me not feeling too great. I went straight to bed.
Late that night, Brooklyn woke up puking her guts out. After a screaming bath, she puked up some more.
And then some more.
I was quite miserable so you took care of her and eventually got her to go back to bed.
Meanwhile, I was tossing and turning and hurting so bad that I wished death would take me.
I had about 20 tablets left over from my pregnancy and let me tell you: this stuff is like gold to me when I am pregnant. The fact that I waited until 4:30 to take it is proof of that.
But on my way to dig the pills out of the medicine cabinet, I stopped by the kitchen sink for my own little puking session.
After ridding my body of everything I ate in the last six months plus any stomach acid I had stored up, I took my precious pill and went to bed feeling a bit better.
Until morning that is.
The next ten hours I laid in bed thinking "this is the end."
I waited for flashes of happy moments and maybe some bright lights, but instead I got you trying to stuff medicine and gold fish into my mouth.
I cried for my mommy and later that night she showed up. Just in time for me to realized that my life was not over and I could maybe contemplate eating Easter dinner again sometime in the distant future.
Now I am feeling a ton better but now you are tucked in bed feeling a little nauseous yourself.
Poor boy.
Not a nice thank you for taking care of your sick wife and daughter, huh?
Well, I really did appreciate it. And now I can return the favor.
I'll even let you have some Zofran and stick gold fish down your throat.
I love you so much!
Sincerely, Lori
