New York a no go.

So every time I’ve had to bail on a work trip before this, it’s been baby’s fault. Well, my fault, but as a result of the baby’s existence. And my dedication to breastfeeding.

Now that we’re partially weaning and I’m feeling better than I have in months, I was just so looking forward to the trip this week. I was going to attend 140conf in New York City and help promote another baby I hold dear (I don’t breastfeed that one though).

And then came the crippling evil stomach virus from hell. I thought stomach viruses were always ’24-hour bugs.’ But this was the worst abdominal pain I’ve ever experienced aside from… well, you know.

So I spent four days with on/off fever and dehydration headaches, while either doubled over in bed or in the bathroom (overshare?). I also didn’t eat for that long (and actually managed to lose those last couple of nagging preggo kilos). I went the entire Yom Haaztmaut without touching a single BBQ’d anything (a record I’m sure!).

But I came out of the sick closet yesterday and had a great day seeing people and congregating in the Israeli outdoors, as I suppose it should be on Yom Haatzmaut. So there’s that.

There’s always the next conference, next project, next baby…

Welcome to parenthood.

So this is it, huh?

You get through a really hard week. You get invited out for both meals for Shabbat. You  breath and say, hey, we can go out the whole day Friday! You make plans together. You prepare everything the night before.

You get woken up too early on Friday. Your kid is sneezing and coughing and snotting and miserable.

You go the doctor at 8:00 am. He smirks and welcomes you to parenthood.

You take home your child and do your best.

You grab an hour out in Jerusalem, just as the sun begins its descent.

Your kid is feeling much better just as Shabbat comes in.

You hope it lasts the weekend.