For the past couple of weeks Lowe hasn’t had a solid poop. Yes, I know, poop talk. Would you rather I call it caca? There’s a Spanish lesson for you. So we went in and saw his pediatrician who ordered a couple poop scoop tests. Both came back negative for parasites and whatnot, but he needed one more to completely rule them out. That was on today’s agenda.

But then around two o’clock last night Lowe threw up. Then he threw up more. Then he pooped water and melon. Then we woke up at six fresh off of four hours sleep on the night. He seemed okay and we made him breakfast. Two eggs down the hatch. Two eggs down the shirt. Then he just started throwing up everything. He couldn’t keep a sip of water down. And water poop was everywhere. It was getting ugly up in here.

Once a decent hour rolled around we called the pediatrician on her cell phone. She picked up, get this, from her very own hospital bed where she lay with kidney stones. I swear Mexican doctors live in a whole different world. Who would be answering client phone calls on their cell phone from their hospital bed? Crazy. She was concerned and told us to call a doctor friend of hers.

Instead we called our old Pediatrician because he speaks some English. Some is much better than none when it comes to doctor talk.

So we brought Lowe to the hospital to see him, and after a quick examination he told us we needed to admit him. He was really dehydrated by this point and they needed to start an IV and get him some antibiotics.

Not really how we saw this day going.

So while I filled out papers Ali held Lowe down for the nurses. And he cried, and she cried, and the nurses went about their work impassively as nurses do. Man did he cry. The cry of a broken down little boy who couldn’t muster the energy to fight, but wanted his mama to know he needed her help. So sad.

As I type this, I am back at the condo while Ouest takes a nap, and Ali is with Lowe in his hospital room. I imagine trying to keep him from ripping out the IV line in his wrist. Blood work still isn’t back and we’re not sure what the problem is yet. We also don’t know how long he will be in for.

So after Ouest’s nap we went back to the hospital to see Ali and Lowe. We finally got permission to feed him which he was very grateful for. Then the doctor came in to check on us. The blood tests came back okay. Nothing weird. Low this and that from throwing up so much, but no big virus or anything. Lowe was still a bit out of it. Super touchy and oh man does that boy love his mama. I just kissed him on the forehead and he cried so hard it took Ali five minutes to calm him down again.

Doctor said he’d check back in at nine o’clock and maybe he could go home then. It’s now almost ten and they aren’t home yet so I’m not holding my breath. Ali is beat. Lowe is pretty low key right now, but still, keeping a one-year-old calm all day in a hospital room while he is attached to an IV is a tough business.

This afternoon when Ouest and I were going to leave, tears started dripping down her cheeks as she said, “Me miss you. Me miss you Mama.” So sweet.

She also asked me tonight, “Why Papa? Why Lowe’s hand broken?”

And finally, ten fifteen and they are home.