In my deepest darkest depths of despair at the hospital last weekend, at 4am when Elfie had been crying for three hours straight, I whispered to her through tears how badly I wanted to take away her pain and suffer it myself. It broke my heart to see her in so much pain and know there was nothing I could do to help her.
And lo, at lunchtime today some sort of miracle occured: Elfie turned a corner and emerged from her nap as her beautiful bright self, and I felt the beginning of a gurgling stomach.
It’s enough to say that I spent the afternoon in the bathroom, thanking my lucky stars that my mum was around to entertain E (or not, they went to the garden centre after all).
I feel horrendous. I look horrendous. Happy weekend.
(Photo: Elfie in her sickbed yesterday, when nothing but Baby Einstein would do)