I hate throwing up. I hate it more than pretty much everything except using nasal spray and going to the dentist. And making visiting teaching appointments.
I especially hate throwing up a few days after having major abdominal surgery. (Seriously, do not try this at home). So I never would have imagined that my poorly-timed puke attack four months ago would turn out to be a blessing. I generally prefer blessings that arrive in neat little packages - more specifically, blessings that involve chocolate or are accompanied by angelic choruses - and not ones that entail bonding with my toilet, so it was hard for me to see the silver lining for awhile. Especially because my glasses fell into the toilet while I was barfing... Did I mention it would be unwise to try this at home?
But, here I am four months later, still reaping the benefit of my post-delivery illness:
My babies will both take a bottle! (What was I saying about angelic choruses?)
This is definitely not something I would have hassled with if I had not been forced into a hospital bed to have IV fluids dripped into my arm while my days-old newborns were at home with their dad. (It's just too much trouble to coax a happily-nursing baby to drink from a bottle unless there is a real need for it, in my opinion. I don't mind having to make myself available for all the feedings).
But I can't tell you how nice it is that, because they will take a bottle, I could go somewhere if I wanted to. And I don't have to obsess about appointments running late or waking up sleeping babies from naps just so I can feed them before I go. It's such a stress reducer for me (and for David when he's home by himself with the babies).
And, it means we could actually hire a babysitter and go on a date! In theory anyway.
Ah, puke-related blessings. Who knew there were any?
Of course, now I'm worried about what frightening experiences will accompany my future blessings. Not that I wouldn't want them (at least in hindsight). It's just that my heightened awareness of how often blessings appear wearing uncomfortable and downright horrible disguises has made me a little jumpy.
Because, gratitude aside, I really hate throwing up.