Around 4:00 am, I heard a strange noise.
Then I got a text. It was from Jane.
"Mom, I threw up."
I jumped up and went upstairs to find Jane doubled over the toilet.
I helped her back into bed and then snuck back into my bed next to Christian.
Ten minutes later, I got another text:
"Mom, I threw up again."
I climbed out of bed feeling so sorry for Jane.
We whispered together in the bathroom as she brushed her teeth.
I left Jane as she crawled back into her bed.
Minutes later:
"Moooommmm"
This time, the green sick face emoji accompanied her text.
I hiked up the stairs and found Jane changing her
clothes and pulling her hair back.
I sympathetically shared with her my hate for barfing.
I helped Jane back in bed and pulled up her blinds.
Outside, the world was white, with thick white snowflakes falling softly above.
"Goodnight, Janie," I said.
I tiptoed back into my room to find Lottie sleeping peacefully in my spot.
I snuggled up close to her and fell asleep.
I woke up again to yet another text.
This time it was from Claire.
"Mom, Jane is throwing up again."
I walked up the stairs to find Jane sitting on the floor.
Her face was bright red and flushed.
This happened a few more times throughout the night.
When 6:45 came around, I went upstairs to wake up the other children for
scriptures and school and found Jane asleep by the toilet.
Something inside me ached for her. I hope she doesn't take after
me and get the super sick pregnancy genes because it's THE WORST!
Jane and Lottie watched movies while I spent most
of my day in the kitchen typing.
I watched the snow pile up while I worked on my talk that
I'm giving this evening at BYU.
I have been fine-tuning, rearranging words,
while studying, reading, and pondering.
My topic is courage.
I think it takes a lot of courage to be a mother-
especially on throw-up nights.
