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Sickday

Sickday

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).

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I feel horrendous. I look horrendous. Happy weekend.

(Photo: Elfie in her sickbed yesterday, when nothing but Baby Einstein would do)

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