For the first 6 months of the Womb Raiders life I had bragged about her iron constitution. I’d put it down to her diet of breast milk from the famous overworked cannons and the occasional organic solid meal now that she’d reached weaning age. Never had we so much as a snot or a snort from the young Raider, but many a friend had suffered colds, coughs, bugs and bacteria, some multiple times. But back in March this year we experienced our first lurgy.
She had sounded quite congested, but seemed happy enough so we headed out to Manly Beach in Sydney to meet up with a couple of friends who were visiting from overseas. It was just a little sniffle at this point, so nothing to be concerned about. We all settled down in a funky beach-side cafe to have a light lunch and catch up on old times. One of us had some toasted sourdough and offered a crust to the Raider to chew on whilst we got down to eating. She was merrily munching away on the crust and being doted on by one of my friends, even having a little nibble of some fresh avocado, life was good!
Moments later the Raider was handed back to me as she’d become a little wriggly – and what timing …! Just as soon as I’d sat her back on my lap, a torrent of green puke cascaded down my arm, leg and onto the floor. It was incredibly powerful and coated me thickly as it rushed out and splattered everything within a half-metre radius. Being a first-timer, my response time to this unfortunate mess was somewhat delayed. I sat there staring at the scene wondering what the hell I was meant to do. This was no ordinary vomit. It was a fetid mixture of breast milk, avocado, toast and snot. Lots of snot. I was also alarmed at the amount that came out of her. She was only a tiny little thing, and I was looking down at what appeared to be several litres of lumpy, green, slimy, stretchy, wet and evil stomach contents.
There was no warning either! I couldn’t really lay blame on the Raider here, it’s not like she could have tapped me on the shoulder politely and said “Mum, I’m feeling a little off….might nip to the loo”.
But still. Maybe a tinge of green, a few dry wretches, perhaps even a couple of heaving convulsions would have been nice. Hell, even my dogs put on a dramatic display before they barf on my rug. Sometimes I’ve even had time to catch it!
One of my friends jumped up and took control, declaring “Don’t worry! I know what to do!” and she set about grabbing any cleaning items she could find, including napkins, water and paper towels from the bathroom. Thank goodness she was there as I sat frozen, still in a state of shock, not able to move for fear of the avocado power spew rolling off me and depositing more on the floor of the fancy establishment.
Once I’d gotten over the intial shock, I began silently cursing the Raider for chucking all over my nice new non-maternity jeans which I had squeezed my shrinking new body into for the first time. Then I was rejoicing the fact we were staying in a hotel that night and I had a change of clothes in the car! There was a silver lining to this green and goopy cloud.
Once I’d managed to clean myself up as much as possible I thrust the Raider into the slightly unwilling arms of The Husband and made a dash to the car for my spare change of clothes.
Unsurprisingly my visitors were not that keen to hold her again, and who could blame them?
These babies are unpredictable. One never knows when they may explode (or implode) and deposit all manner of foul contents all over you. All you know is that it’s probably
going to happen when you are wearing something new, or are drastically underprepared.
So if you are smiling as you read this thinking avocado power spews only happen to other mothers (yes I am talking to you Karla) just wait your turn. There are no guarantees in this gig, just lay off the toast and avocado when your baby has a cold. I’m going to chalk this one up to (in)experience.