The Source?

My roller coaster began the week before Christmas. Three itchy bites on my big pregnant belly. The saga has been long. Painful. Itchy. Frustrating. Exasperating. Exhausting. And it isn't over yet. Five long months with five monthly treatments. It worked every time because we'd have no bites for two to three weeks until the eggs hatched and bites returned and I'd report it to the pest control again. Finally I had to try a new company.

Last Saturday our hero Jeffery began. He came and didn't just spray the beds and bomb the rooms as we had done five times before. He did that plus sprayed Gina's room, the nursery, the playroom futon couch and the living room sofa and love seat. He was worried about the kids sensitive skin so he used the lighter of two chemicals in their room. We had to be out of the house for the entire day for the gassing of the entire place top to bottom.

Two days later jake had a few bites. I ran into Jeffery in the neighborhood and he came by to take a look. Still no signs of bed bugs. We had spent the previous day at the bird park and I had killed at least one mosquito so I crossed my fingers and hoped it was just that. A pesky mosquito. He said to call if the kids got any more. Next day nothing. Of course the following day they were back. Four bites on Jacob. Poor Jeffery scheduled a full house treatment again for Saturday.

Once again he sprayed the entire house. This time both bedrooms were to get the full tougher chemical spray. I felt great. Finally this thing was behind us. When we got home last night our mattresses were still wet so we set the kids up in the playroom on the futon and I was ready to pull out the blowup mattress yet again to sleep in the living room when Brian said he would much prefer the couches. So I took the big couch and he pulled the love seat cushions onto the floor.

This morning I awoke to bites. Not just two or three but lots and lots of bites. My final count tonight reveals 41 bites in one single night. This was not a great mothers day. I spent the day in tears. Crying and pleading in prayer for knowledge from heaven above. I was short with my children. Grumpy to my husband. Weepy at the church and totally broke down in the mothers room and poured out my soul to my sweet neighbor who lent a listening ear while we fed our little babies and missed the Sunday lessons.

What can I do that I haven't done. We have washed the laundry over and over and over. Our entire house is a mixed up disaster all in my attempts to quarantine the house and contain the problem. The stuffed animals were cleaned and bagged and stored two months ago. Special papers the kids have saved are also in air tight bags on the front porch still. Kids clothes were washed a month ago and moved to the office on the first floor. They have been leaving pajamas upstairs and clothes downstairs and going up and down in their underwear since April. Gina and i have washed so much this week. With hand me down clothes it totals ten years of boy clothes and eight years of girl clothes. Plus my things, Brian's and Gina's. Winter clothes and outerwear. And bedding and linens. Couch pillows. Dress ups and halloween costumes. Baby blankets and seats for the swing the bouncy chair. The list goes on and on. Gina started apologizing to the dryer every time she put another load in. At least that made me laugh a little.

And when we were folding and sorting them over a period of six days we sat in the floor. The floor that is just behind the totally infested couch. So now what? An entire week of twelve hours a days of washing. All in vain. None of it can be considered safe.

Jeffery returns tomorrow at one o'clock. I can tell even he feels bad for me now. I'm spent. I wish I could toss everything we own into the trash. Just quit. Move. Start fresh. I hope that against all odds maybe we have finally found the source. The couch that just keeps restarting the bed bug clock for us. I surely hope so because my spirit is broken. My hope is gone. My body itches all over and bites cover my shoulders, my back, my belly, my buttocks, my thighs and my knees. I even have three in my armpit. I'm physically miserable.

I pray last night was a blessing. My misery will pay off. I never would have slept there to find out if he hadn't tied the light chemical in the kids room that didn't work. This could have gone on and on and on forever. I had Brian give me a blessing tonight and I'm feeling more calm and a bit less desperate. Still I have not yet found the resolve to begin my fight again but maybe a good night sleep - in my bug free bed after a thick lather in hydrocortisone cream - can renew my will to continue to fight this fight and a fresh mind to know what is the right path.

It feels good to get that whine off my chest. I wonder what my sweet kids will remember about this when they are older. Probably mostly that the "rules" just kept changing. Where their clothes were kept was different every week. Where they could play and what they could get out. Different. Different. Different. They need this to be over as much as I do. To have consistency again and clear expectations. That especially hard on sweet Jacob who has cried himself to sleep more than once scared of the bugs that will bite him. I'm sure in his trumped up three year old imagination they are huge scary monsters rather than tiny little annoyances. So I'm off to sleep on the bare mattress until my super husband returns with clean sheets sometime around midnight. Good night for now.