Last week Wednesday, Jamie, our day care provider, let us know that she had been throwing up one night but that she was feeling better and would take Brooklynn if we wanted - it was our call. (For those scoring at home, this is about the only drawback to an in-home daycare we have found: the fact that you do rely on one person to provide care every day vs. someone filling in for a sick employee of a corporate daycare center.)
Since both Rhiannon and I have already burned through a substantial amount of time off this year with a weeklong hospital stay already under our belts, we decided to send her.
Turns out that may have been the wrong call.
Friday morning, before we flew out to North Dakota, Brooklynn drank half of her bottle, stopped, and threw it all back up on the carpet. The amazing part was she didn't get me or herself, so no clothing change was required. She didn't eat much the rest of the day and had a fever that night, but she seemed to snap out of it on Saturday.
I figured we were in the clear, because if an eight month old was only mildly affected, everyone else should fight this off.
Saturday night, her cousins Grace and Jacoby were both up puking.
Sunday night, her aunt Sarah didn't feel so hot.
This morning, Rhiannon threw up and now both her and aunt Tricia are running fevers. Rhiannon is almost positive that the last time she threw up due to illness was something around the seventh grade, and, not to call her old, but that implies that being physically ill is not something she does. Like, ever.
Sometimes you hear people say they think they would feel better if they threw up and then they try to do it. Rhiannon never thinks she would feel better, because throwing up is never the better option.
Brooklynn is back to her normal self and I'm still feeling ok. I'm just hoping that it stays that way since I don't think anyone here is feeling up the task of taking care of me and Brooklynn.