The dreaded sickness bug has hit our household. My poor little boy has been hit hard by it. Last night I sat up in bed surrounded in towels (a little trick that another Mama shared with me) awaiting the next sickness episode.

The hours tick by slowly, whilst I wait for the telltale coughing (pre vomit) of the little one lying in my arms. In order to keep my spirits up through the early hours I watched re-runs of Friends episodes on Netflix, that I must have seen a hundred times, but near fails in making me chuckle inside. A couple of times, I manage to snuggle down for 20 minutes to be awoken by the either the whimper of the little one snuggled close to me, or from the shout of “mummy I’ve had a bad dream” from my bigger one in the room next door.

There are times I could have cried through shear exhaustion, but as soon as I hear the whimpers or shouts, my own needs become non existent. I mean that in the nicest sense, the internal plea for sleep just disappears and I become totally and whole heartedly there for my children.

Those nights are hard and very lonely. The internal battle at 3am-‘should I wake my other half?’ ‘This is getting worse, should he be seen by a doctor?’ ‘Should I be more worried than I am?’ And so on…

The ‘mum’ guilt is endless, as I realise that there is no way I will be able to go and see the big ones celebration assembly in the morning. I booked the day off work especially so that I could go and watch it, and she’s been excited for weeks. I know she will be disappointed and that breaks my heart, but she is also resilient and caring; I know that although she will be upset, she will understand and be worried for her little brother.

The picture below, I asked to be taken last night- I sat there surrounded by towels, with a pile covered in sick ready to go straight into the washing machine for the next round by my feet. My hair scrapped away to try and avoid and splatter. I would normally avoid having pictures in situations like this, for obvious reasons! But this is the true concept of motherhood, the moments we don’t usually capture, why would we? Why would we want to remember these types of nights, but these are the nights you feel that full pang of attachment so much it aches. The nights that your needs are way, way down the bottom of the pile, but you don’t even care. These are the nights we doubt our decisions and then seconds later, know that what we are doing is right… the nights that are devoted fully to the needs of our children, with no thoughts for anything else. These nights can be long…

*I was not abandoned by my partner, he supported me wholeheartedly.