Sam’s Big Gift: Part 1

It’s been a pretty eventful last couple of days around our household and it all began last Saturday evening while I was feeding Sam, who seemed a little odd in his behavior. Sparing you the details, suffice to say he just didn’t seem “right”.

We’re on the living room couch, he’s sitting on my lap and I’m gently patting him on the back to get that mid-bottle burp out, when suddenly, Sam projectile vomits in one fell splash, all over my arm, leg, couch and floor. Surprised by the amount of fluid Sam has produced and deemed to share with his Dad, I call over to Melissa for some help with the clean up. And true to form, reliable Mom, comes walking over with one half of a paper towel. Upon arriving at the scene of the spill, Melissa quickly sees that no matter what the absorption capabilities of the paper towel, a half will not do. So as she turns to fetch more, Sam accentuates the point by vomiting again twice in rapid succession all over the place. You know, to hit the spots he missed before.

Melissa and I clean up the mess, Sam and myself all the while making us wonder what caused Sam to have an involuntary reflux of gastro-intestinal acids… umm to puke. So we go through the check list of usual suspects and settle on it maybe being his milk. We thought this because since that morning, Sam had not been finishing his bottles, always leaving an ounce or two, which he’d never done. So I took his unfinished bottle and squeezed a few drops into my mouth to taste it, immediately noticing and odd taste. I then asked Melissa to do the same and she confirmed that it was probably the milk. So we threw out all his made bottles, washed, and made new bottles from another formula box we had bought. Sam was happy and playful the rest of that evening, so we thought nothing more of it. He did what he had to do, and that was that.

We spent Sunday at my parents house, where after discussing Sam’s episode the previous night with his wise grand-parents, we felt re-assured in our understanding of what had caused it. As the previous day, Sam was still leaving milk in his bottle. We figured it might be because of the solid food we were now giving him taking up more space in his little belly, so we didn’t worry too much about it. We had a great spaghetti with homemade arrabiata and spicy Italian sausage sauce, then took our leave for home and the long, eventful night that awaited us.

I woke up around 2 A.M. because I felt Melissa get up from the bed and head to the bathroom in a rather “Quick! I’m gonna barf!” manner. So naturally, being the good husband that I am , I got up and assisted any way I could. I’ll spare you the details, but sure enough, she was sick and it wasn’t pretty. We got back to bed and I realized I was feeling a little queasy myself. Believing it’s only the side effect of seeing what Melissa just went through, I settled in for a little rest. Thirty minutes later, I was tasting that spaghetti dinner all over again, but the wrong way! So we were both sick, at least Sam was still slept like a… well, a baby. Having both gotten to know the toilet in an intimate manner, we both supposed the sausage from dinner was the culprit and well (again) assumed that since it was “out” it wouldn’t bother us anymore. Again, we were wrong.

So wrong in fact, that Melissa was busy every half hour and I every hour. Sometimes we synced up and went together! Isn’t that what couples do? So after a few hours of this, and Sam thankfully still sleeping soundly, I called my Dad and asked him to come over and take care of Sam, cause we, literally, had nothing left. He agreed and showed up around 7:30 A.M. just in time to give Sam his morning bottle. Melissa and I, meanwhile, were still taking trips to the bathroom and getting weaker and more dehydrated by the splash… We had tried everything and nothing stayed in us for long: water, pedialite, gastro mix (boiled water, orange juice and salt), flat ginger ale… You name it, we tried it with them all ending in the same place, the bottom of the toilet. Finally, around 11 A.M., Melissa says she can’t take it anymore and I agreed. She was pale, weak and has been hit the hardest by this, so I get my Dad to call an ambulance. With all the talk of this “maple-leaf meat sickness” going around, enough is enough. We needed professional intervention!

About 15 minutes later, the paramedics arrived and the mystery deepened.

This is getting a little long for one post, so tune in tomorrow for part 2 of “Sam’s Big Gift“!

As always, thanks for reading!