Anyway, Wednesday night, as soon as I told the babysitter to leave early, I felt as if I had spent my day drinking an entire bottle of cheap whiskey, or Southern Comfort. (Yuck! now that would give you a wicked hangover) I was in the midst of the worst (and only) migraine I've had since freshman year of college. Bella was being as sweet as can be, but the only position that I could even bear was to be scrunched up in a ball with my head down on the couch. I was definitely not on top of my mommy game. She'd come up to me and smile or laugh as she patted me, and I'd smile through the pain, but I knew I wouldn't be able to feed her or change her without crying right along with her. I couldn't even go into the kitchen because the smell of the clothes washing made feel as if I would wretch all over the place. I was just sitting there, waiting, watching the minutes tick by, and waiting.
And then... A MIRACLE HAPPENED.....HALLELUJAH!!!!!!! Jesús and his lovely wife showed up to save the day.
Thank god for in-laws! (I bet you thought you'd never hear anyone utter those words!) Because my sweet husband made a pleading phone call on my behalf, Paquita and Jesús came over, fed Bella and got her ready for bed, bought me some saltine crackers and pudding (the only things I could stomach) and gave me some Tylenol so I could try to sleep it off. They even hung up the laundry, tidied up and brought Bella to bed before they left. You can't even imagine how grateful I was.
So why was this a necessary experience, you may wonder. As most of you already know, for many of us, asking for help is not easy. It's humbling and revealing and a big pride-swallowing moment. It's never pretty. I don't think, though,that when it comes to raising children, "pretty" is an option. Neither is doing it alone, for that matter. Sometimes your husband's at work, the baby's stuck a dried ball of cheese up her nose and it's pouring rain and you don't drive in this crazy city. Sometimes you just need that one person who you can call up and count on to help you through those many messy moments in life.
Being here and constantly reminded of the thousands of miles separating me and my "count on me people", I've struggled with trying to do too much on my own. To all of our dismay, Alex spends more hours at the bar than with us, and I rarely see any of the few friends I have left here. It's good to know that I have someone who will be there the next time I feel like I'm reliving the worst hangover of my life, to send me to bed with some saltines and pudding, and make sure my baby gets sent to bed with a warm, comfy diaper and a full belly.
