Had a rough night last night. L had been complaining about an "owwy tummy" all day yesterday, and the chickens came home to roost around midnight. She was up off-and-on until about 2AM throwing up and having bouts of diarrhea. She was pretty miserable.
This is probably the first time she's thrown up and been self-aware enough to "experience" it. It was pretty tough to watch the rising panic in her eyes as she would convulse, not understanding what her body was doing, realizing all of a sudden that she had no control over it. She was terrified and desperately wanted us to fix it, but with any stomach flu, there is really nothing a parent can do but hold her and tell her she'd feel better later.
Now is later and she is indeed feeling better and pretty much her old self. But while she experienced what everyone of us went through at some point, I can't help but think that, to some small extent, our little girl lost another little bit of childhood innocence and trust last night.
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