Today started of with a bang. Or actually, calling it an explosion would be more accurate. Baby Lewis decided that he’d have an epic vomit session and totally freak out his mama.
He ate from squirt-gun-boob first thing this morning, and then we laid down in bed together to hang out and doze a little longer. It was so peaceful and relaxing… until it wasn’t anymore.
It started with a little spit up. No big deal. And then in the blink of an eye it turned into a geyser coming out of my child. Straight up into the air. Full on vomit. Probably a foot high.
I rolled him onto his side so he wouldn’t inhale it. And he kept going! I was about a foot away from him – well within the splash zone – and I was drenched.
He was sputtering. It was coming out his nose. It felt like it lasted forever.
When it was finally over, I just laid there stunned, covered in vomit. It was so much that it was hard to understand that that had all been inside of him. It seemed like the volume of vomit was bigger than the space he occupies.
I eventually gathered myself enough to grab a change of clothes for him, a new diaper, some wipes, etc. and settled down on a clean spot on the bed to clean him up.
He geyser-vomited again.
At that point, I was properly freaked out. So naturally, I called my mother. She advised me to call Lewis’ doctor. I don’t know why that hadn’t occurred to me. I guess I just thought, “Babies puke. Time to do laundry.” and told myself not to panic. But as soon as my mom said to call the doctor, I felt silly for not thinking of that myself.
The pediatrician wanted to see him right away. So I zipped around the house packing the diaper bag, strapping the baby in the car seat, putting on clothes, wiping myself down, and trying not to cry. Kyle offered to leave work and come meet me, and despite my emotional side wanting to accept his offer, I decided I could handle it myself.
Lewis checked out fine at the doctor. They checked to make sure he hadn’t inhaled any vomit, that he didn’t have an obstruction in his belly stopping the milk from going the way it was supposed to, checked his temp, and checked his responsiveness. He passed all tests with flying colors and we decided that he had just tried to eat way, WAY too much from squirt-gun-boob in one go. Like… probably 3 times as much as his little belly can hold. So I’m supposed to cut him off earlier if he is going too strong on squirt-gun-boob. And if he keeps vomiting, develops a fever, or starts to become spacey or distant, I’m supposed to call the doctor again. But so far he’s had two more meals and is currently sleeping peacefully, without even a burp to speak of.
So now I’m knee deep in vomit covered laundry, am still a vomit covered human, and am feeling generally relieved that my son is okay.
Man oh man… squirt-gun-boob is really trying to drown poor Lewis. It almost succeeded today. I’m going to have to lay down the law!