
This morning Evy was crying on and off for awhile. When I realized she wasn't going to calm herself down and go back to sleep I caved and fed her around 2 a.m. That in itself is unusual, but wait it gets better. After putting her back to sleep I heard a choking/coughing sound and went flying up the stairs to see what was going on. When I picked her up I realized she had spit up. But wait, her arm was so wet it looked like it had been under running water, oh her sheet is as wet as it would be just coming out of the washing machine, oh her mattress pad is soaking. The bed skirt is wet! Holy cow there's milk dripping down the wooden slats of her crib. Good lord, my bare foot is in a pool of wetness on the carpet. What in the hell just happened? How did the 4 oz that I fed her turn in to 20 oz on the trip back up her esophagus? This was no regular spit up. This was projectile! And projectile is most fun at 2:30 a.m. After completely changing her and her bedding we were back to sleep by 3 a.m. Until, at 5:45, she realized she was starving since she'd emptied the entire contents of her stomach.