Fast Forward 9 months and it's Thursday, April 14th. Brianne's pregnancy is going great. Malia is doing well and there have been no complications. At 9AM on Thursday I get a call from Brianne saying that she is really sick with the stomach flu and that she is going to try and tough it out. Jackson was sick earlier in the week so it was inevitable that she would get it. At work I am stressed and slammed. My boss was out on bereavement leave and we had a new product release a few days earlier. Emails are pouring in and the phone is ringing like crazy, the last thing I need is Brianne being sick. So an hour later she calls me and says, "I need you to come home." As I huff and puff, I hang up the phone and head home all the way thinking about the health of my pregnant wife and the fact that I will need to juggle work and taking care of Jackson all day. As I fly down I-5 I think to myself, "This is going to be a crazy day."
When I get home Brianne has her head buried in the toilet and the bathroom is covered in a liquid whose smell and color I can't describe. I ask her what she needs and hold her hair back as she pukes. Thankfully Jackson is asleep at this point so I only have one "baby" to deal with. After getting Brianne into bed, I go downstairs to work. I set up my computer and immediately hear Jackson crying. I go up and get him and we have lunch and he's happy to see me as usual.
The afternoon is a balancing act of tending to Jackson, Brianne, and working. As 4pm roles around and things begin to settle down, I begin to feel a little cruddy. My stomach is fine but I have a headache and the chills are starting to set in. I love my son but when he's running all over the place doing things he's not supposed to the last thing I want to feel is crappy. As the night roles on I put him down for bed and laid down on the couch feeling half alive. I remember thinking, "All I need is a good night's sleep. I had no idea what the night had in store...
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