Yesterday afternoon, Simon yacked just before I got home. It resulted in an unscheduled bath and a change of clothes (for Diana as well). I didn't think all that much about it, because he generally seemed OK. The this morning and again this afternoon, he did it some more. At that point it's pretty obvious that our little guy has some kind of stomach flu.
It scared the shit out me this morning, when Diana was calling for me from his room at 6, as he spewed shortly after getting up. I really didn't fall back asleep until minutes before my alarm, just before 7. Remember that I'm the guy who spent the first month of parenthood checking every few minutes to see if my baby was breathing, so when something isn't right, I still get a little paranoid.
He went down this afternoon and didn't get up until almost 8, but I got to spend a little over an hour with him, encouraging as much Pedialyte as he could reasonable consume. Judging by his diarrhea and not very wet diapers, he's probably pretty dehydrated. He didn't express any real interest in eating either. Fortunately, he did quietly play and sip his drink, so I'm crossing my fingers that he's on the mend.
I was also worried that I was getting sick. I wasn't feeling great all afternoon, but I think I was just psyching myself into worry more than anything. Still, I've had all kinds of unusual lower-GI symptoms, as has Diana. We wonder if maybe we've got the same thing he does, only our adult bodies are better at fending it off.
We've been pretty lucky overall with Simon. He had the hard core cold in his second or third week, but other than some general snotty issues that made him cranky, he hasn't been sick. I don't know if that's normal for a baby, but ten months without any serious sickness seems pretty solid.