the worst birthday present ever

Last year was a great birthday. We had just moved to Africa and my sweet hubby threw me a surprise party with all of our new friends. However, the whole night I was feeling extremely nauseous and couldn't figure out why. Our next door neighbor suggested taking a pregnancy test and sure enough, the next day I found out I was pregnant with CW. 

This year started out great. K invited me to have lunch with him on Friday at work and surprised me with a cake from the Embassy cafeteria (hey, you have to get creative here). Later that night we went to my favorite Indian restaurant, Wakkis, for dinner. Things were looking good...

Saturday (my actual birthday) started out even better. My two men let me sleep in and I woke up to chocolate chip waffles and signs all around the house. But then I got a call from the Embassy nurse (I had taken CW in earlier that week because his diapers were not looking right) saying that he has salmonella. WHAT?!?! 

I have no idea how he got it because we are extremely careful with his bottles, washing hands, etc., but EVERYTHING goes in his mouth these days and Nigerians are not privy to the unspoken "ask before touching" rule. UGH. Through blurry eyes and pangs of guilt I frantically emailed my pediatrician in the States and he assured me that this is completely normal and plenty of kids get it. I believe his exact words were "Really, get used to it because this is what kids do and things like this will be repeated in different ways many times over his lifetime."

Apparently he is ok if he doesn't develop a fever or become overly fussy and I guess something like this was bound to happen living in a place like this without dishwashers and Moms whipping out their antibac every 5 minutes, but still...I feel just awful. 

I have really tried to be chill about this whole Mom thing. I never wanted to be the type of Mom that never let her kids play in the dirt or touch door handles. But 3 bottles of Lysol later, I am feeling a bit different. I know I can't put him in a glass box, but this is my baby. I guess this is only the beginning of the worry bug that all Moms eventually catch...