We had company to ring in the New Year with us. We were talking and laughing. Dinner came together easily and at the right time...and was rather tasty. And then this is where things get a little fuzzy for me.
I took Lindsay up to bed. She mostly went down easily. I thought I'll just sit for a minute on the twin bed in her room when everything in my stomach suddenly rebelled. Oh my God, I thought, I'm going to be sick!
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the bathroom floor listening to Lindsay fussing in her crib. Maybe our guests would just think I had trouble getting Lindsay to sleep? I worried someone would come up and check and find me lying with my face on the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. I peeled myself off the floor and got onto my bed. I lay there for what seemed like a very long time. My stomach lurched and the room was still spinning. I tried to remember if I was mixing drinks...no...how many glasses of wine did I have? I realized I was going to have to go back downstairs. The kids were still playing in the living room, and the adults were drinking champagne around the dining room table over the last of dessert.
I have no idea if I looked as sick as I felt, drinking a tall glass of cold tea. Alec brought me a blanket to wrap around me before we watched the ball drop in Times Square on the television. Our guests left, and I put Lauren to bed and climbed into a hot shower. When he got back from the train station, I was drinking another glass of tea in the kitchen.
"Uhh. Yeah. I got sick."
"Just now? You haven't been drinking in a while..."
"No, when I brought Lindsay up."
"Huh. Let me get you some Advil..."
"Do you think everybody knew?"
"No...I think everybody just thought you were tired."
And that's why I love that man.