Forewarning – this column is not for the feint of stomach. The first time our hall toilet flushed in the middle of the night startled me awake. I lay in bed and pondered the phenomenon. There were no guests in the house, the toilet was working properly. There could only be one reason the toilet would flush in the night – one of the kids got up to use the bathroom. My daughters were very young the first time it happened. Once they were out of diapers and in a regular bed, it was certainly an option. However, it was a sound I wasn’t used to hearing.

So you would think after 17 years, I would be used to it. I’m not. Now when I hear the toilet flush in the middle of the night, my eyes fly open, and I prepare myself for the following retch and splash. Because the only reason my kids, with their young bladders, use the toilet in the wee hours of the morning is when they’re sick.

Although with their vampire hours, there is obviously going to be bathroom activity when I’m asleep. That I’m prepared for because chances are I was up at some point to use the facilities myself and heard them laughing or talking to friends or each other via computer. But when the house is silent, after everyone has gone to bed, the toilet has a special sound.

They aren’t often sick, and at least they don’t come into my room to tell me, like they did when they were little. They would wake me up from a dead sleep, hover over me miserably, “Mom, I have to throw up.” I’d recoil and yell, “Go to the bathroom.”

Why they announced it, I don’t know, but it never failed to shock me into being fully alert. My worst fear never happened, that in taking the time to tell me they were going to be sick, they wouldn’t make it to the bathroom, but would lose it while they were suspended above my head.

Now that they’re old enough to handle themselves in those situations, they don’t rouse me, but I still wake up when I hear such goings on in the hall bathroom. I get up, because I am their mother. I pour them a glass of water, wet a washcloth, sit on the edge of the tub, and wish I wasn’t so nice to them and could crawl back into bed without guilt.

Most of the time it’s a one shot deal. Maybe something they ate or a fly-by-night stomach bug. I pray my kindness doesn’t come back to bite me and I’ll be the one bent over the porcelain god for my troubles. I usually don’t catch the bugs my daughters have. The one time I did catch the stomach bug on a rebound taught me to be more compassionate to their complaints. I made my oldest get up, shower and get ready for school when she told me she wasn’t feeling well. She threw up in the shower. Though it seems like a convenient place to get sick, it’s not. Shower drains are not made to withstand debris like the flush of a toilet and I had to clean it up, thus exposing myself to the drama of it all.

So when the toilet flushes in the silence of the night, I wake and listen for the call of the wild. Am I needed? Is it just an uncommon bathroom stop? Are they headed for bed and I slept through all their late night activity? When a bedroom door closes soon after, I know I’m in the clear and can roll over and go back to sleep without guilt.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com or on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh,” or twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Life section.