"Mommy! Mama!" Bailey babbled over the monitor.
I opened up my eyes to see the sunlight streaming through window. This was strange. It had been so long since I hadn't been woken up by Zola and Bailey in my room.
I got up and went to the bathroom before getting Bailey. It was still early, so I sat with Bailey on the couch.
After a while, I was concerned that Zola wasn't up. I checked my phone: 7:40 a.m., October 10th.
Shortly after, I heard Zola crying. Something was wrong.
I walked into Zola's room, Bailey toddling after me.
"Hey, Zo," I said, picking her up from her bed.
"Mama," she said softly, gripping my shirt in her hands, burying her head into my shoulder.
Her head was warm against my body, and I could tell her sniffles weren't just from crying.
I carried her into my bathroom, sitting her on my counter. I grabbed a thermometer and took her temperature. 100.2.
I gave her some children's Motrin, then carried her into the living room. I put her on the couch, underneath the blankets.
In the kitchen, I prepared breakfast for Bailey, then Zola.
With Bailey happily eating in the kitchen, I gave Zola her breakfast. When she had finished eating, I turned on the television for her.
By the time Bailey had finished with his breakfast, Zola was fast asleep.
Deciding to let her get some rest, I turned on a monitor, then took Bailey into his room to play.
After playing with Bailey for a while, I quietly made him lunch in the kitchen while Zola continued sleeping.
When Bailey finished eating, I put him down for a nap. As luck would have it, Zola woke up as soon as Bailey was asleep.
"Mommy," Zola whined, "I still don't feel good."
It was moments like these that I was glad I was here in San Francisco, not working. If I was still in Seattle, I would be at work, and I wouldn't be able to take care of Zola. This time in San Francisco was allowing me to not be my mother.
"I know, sweetie," I said, sitting down next to Zola, pulling her into my lap. "Do you want to snuggle in bed with mommy?" I asked.
"Mm-hmm," Zola mumbled in response.
I picked Zola up, her legs wrapping around my baby bump.
After giving her more medicine, I laid down in bed, pulling the feverish Zola closer to me.
Zola sniffled and mumbled something incoherent. I rubbed her back, willing for her to fall asleep again.
After ten minutes, Zola's snuffled breathing evened out, and I knew she had fallen asleep.
Still sleeping, Zola rolled away from me. I took this chance, and I quietly crawled out of bed.
I grabbed a book of baby names from its plastic bag from the floor along with a highlighter.
I carefully climbed back into bed, sitting next to Zola. I sat up, propping myself against three pillows.
Resting the book of names on my stomach, I began flipping through it.
I skimmed the names for girls, looking for anything that caught my eye.
Cheryl. Too old fashioned.
Elizabeth. A classic, but one of Derek's sister's names.
Jemima. How did this even make the book?
Lily. Now, this was a nice name. Lily Shepherd. Lily Grey. I highlighted it.
Samantha. Too much.
After a long time spent browsing the book, I closed it shut. I had spent forty minutes, and although I had liked Lily and a few other names, nothing had really felt right.
I decided to give names some though later.
With a tired sigh, I put the book on my bedside table, then laid on my side to try and get some sleep.
I had just shut my eyes when Zola started coughing and squirming.
Before I could roll over to comfort her, Zola had started to cry.
"Shhhhhh. It's okay," I said to Zola, trying to calm her tears.
Her tears quickly subsided to sniffles.
We both sat up in bed, and I helped Zola blow her nose.
"Mommy," Zola said looking into my eyes, "can we snuggle?"
"Of course," I said to her.
She leaned her head against the top of my bump, her arms wrapped in a circle, caressing my stomach.
I kissed the top of her head, rubbing my hand up and down her arm.
Bailey's cries sounded loudly over the monitor.
Zola and I had fallen asleep, me sitting up. I shifted Zola off of me and laid her down to the side.
"Mommy, where are you going?" Zola asked softly, still half asleep.
"I'm going to get Bailey. I'll be right back," I responded.
I walked towards Bailey's room, his cries sounding loudly. This was strange. He usually cried then babbled to himself until I got him.
I opened the door to his room and stopped in my tracks.
He had barfed, and there was vomit all over himself and his crib.
I carefully picked Bailey up, holding him at arm's length away.
I carried him into my bathroom, glancing at Zola, seeing that she was still asleep. I put him in the bath and started to rinse him off.
It made me upset to see Bailey sitting in the bath, him looking at me with big, sad eyes.
He obviously felt sick, based on his sniffles and whines. He kept mumbling and wasn't splashing the water around like he usually did.
Halfway through bathing Bailey, Zola slowly walked into the bathroom.
"Mommy?"
"Yes, Zozo?" I asked.
"My stomach hurts," she whined.
I knew what was going to happen.
Before I could get a word in, Zola promptly threw up all over the bathroom floor.
I took a deep breath as Zola began to cry.
"Come here," I said to Zola, giving her a hug.
I quickly finished rinsing Bailey off, then got him dressed.
I put Zola and Bailey on the living room couch each with a trash can, hoping that if they barfed again it would be in there.
I spent the next hour cleaning up both of their vomits.
It was going to be a long few days.
