This past week has been a rollercoaster — not the fun kind, but the kind that messes with your head, your body, and your peace of mind all at once. It all started with a stomach bug — or maybe it was a virus. Honestly, I’ve never been great at handling illness calmly. Being a hypochondriac and a naturally anxious person, every little symptom feels like a red flag waving in my face. And this time, it wasn’t just me.
My wife, who’s currently in her 12th week of pregnancy, also got sick. She vomited twice, the last time being just after 15 hours of feeling okay. She kept sipping water, trying to stay hydrated, but complained of a dry mouth and a headache. Understandably, I started panicking. I was terrified the fetus might be in danger from the dehydration. I kept asking myself — how long does dehydration need to last to harm a baby? Are electrolytes enough to keep her safe?
She took a Panangin tablet and magnesium — about 670 mg that day — which I reminded myself were both rich in electrolytes. Still, I was stuck in a loop of fear. Every little thing she said or did, every moment she looked tired or said she needed to pee, sent my thoughts spiraling again.
I even worried about the environment in our home. Was the virus still lingering on our pillows? On the carpets? I Googled, I disinfected, I steamed. I debated whether to wash our cushions at 80 degrees or just wipe them clean. I stared at laundry symbols like they were ancient hieroglyphs. Eventually, I just settled on cleaning what I could and letting time do the rest.