Unbelievable :: The Move

We’ve all been there – a day, week, road trip, or vacation that is such a disaster it’s practically unbelievable. Occasionally it contains something so embarrassing that you are ashamed to tell others about it. After having one of those weeks, I revisited another one of those experiences and decided these are too funny not to share. Whether you need a good laugh or want to know that you’re not alone, I present you with my two unbelievable stories – The Plague and The Move.

The Move

The thought of moving from Texas to Georgia (with brief stops in Illinois and Alabama) was nerve-wracking and filled with emotion, so we came up with a brilliant solution – Gigi would fly down to Texas and we would make the drive to Illinois together with the kids, small dog, and cats.  We’d made the trip many times before and had a solid routine in place, so it should have been easy peasy.  Chad would stay in Texas with the large dog while the house was being packed up and moved. As heartbroken as I was to leave Texas, I was happy to be leaving prior to the movers coming and the house is packed up.  

I picked up Gigi at the airport the evening before we were heading out, as ready as possible.  I had all of the stuff to be packed up and ready to be loaded into my truck.  After dinner, we went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep due to my anxiety.  At one point I heard Charleigh June (C1) talking so my husband went in to check on her, it wasn’t long before I heard him calling for me.  There was vomit in her bed and a lot of it.  We cleaned up her bed, and my husband stayed with her hoping I could get some sleep in preparation for the drive ahead. 

We were hoping it was just a fluke and tried to put it behind us, but sadly it wasn’t.  Eventually, she and Chad made it back into our room to attempt to sleep for the evening, but C1 was just too sick.  Gigi came down to check her out and calm her down before retreating back to her bedroom.  Once we finally had her quieted down and sleeping, we were able to sleep a bit.  By the time morning came, it was like nothing ever happened, and she was back to normal.

Confident that the worst was behind us, we packed up the truck and hit the road, with reservations to stop before crossing the state line. The five-hour drive had gone off without a hitch, and after settling into our room and eating dinner we fell asleep early in preparation of the extra long day ahead of us. 

The next morning I awoke feeling incredibly well-rested and ready to start the drive.  Gigi was already in the shower, so I made my way to the bathroom to start getting ready.  It was then it hit me out of nowhere – a not so good feeling deep in my belly desperately needing to escape.  I made it to the bathroom and the bottom fell out.  I was 100% positive I had caught that stomach bug.  Horribly nauseated I refused to leave the hotel, and Gigi called her brother (a doctor) for advice.  I took more Immodium than I ever thought humanly possible and some anti-emetics I had left over from pregnancy and went back to bed.  Gigi secured our room for another night, before coming back up to feed the kids.  It wasn’t long before I heard her rushing to the bathroom herself.  The stomach bug claimed its next victim. By early evening both of us were feeling less nauseated, and we went to bed hopeful we could continue the journey to Illinois in the morning.

The next morning we woke up feeling like ourselves, and although I was hesitant we packed up our stuff, left a very generous tip for the poor cleaning staff, and hit the road. (But not without the garbage can Gigi took from the hotel room, of course.) C1 was fairly upset the entire morning – it was her birthday and all she wanted was to go home, something that was just not possible. We treated her to many special treats along the drive – Oreo’s (her favorite), and a few tiny gifts from random gas stations along the way.  Then the unthinkable happened, vomit sprinkled with Oreo’s all over the place. {This is probably where I should tell you I really cannot stand vomit, it was actually a large contributing factor to why I quit nursing school.}. Thank goodness Gigi (a nurse) was with us and stole that garbage can from the hotel.  I was hopeful it was an isolated incident and continued along the way.

Thankfully we made it into Missouri before C1 had another episode, which was obviously caused by her being so upset about the move.  All I know is I was incredibly thankful for Gigi and that stupid garbage can. By the time we made it to my parents’ house C1 and her car seat were both completely covered in regurgitated Oreo’s.

Once we got her cleaned up, the car seat removed for a good scrub, and the truck unpacked she had perked up.  As you can imagine, she was back to her normal self once she saw the birthday gifts Gigi had waiting for her.  

That was, hands down, one of the worst experiences of my life; but looking back on it I cannot help but laugh about how everything played out over the course of the trip.  It’s definitely an experience I hope to never have again, though I learned I’m stronger than I thought. (And that I still hate vomit.)