Poop . . . Not long after you get the amazing news that you will be expecting a new bundle of joy, Poop enters your world in a whole new way. First it’s meconium, that first sticky poop that your baby must have before they let you leave the hospital. Then you’re told to track the amount, times, consistency of those first poops at home to make sure the baby is eating enough. My husband and I often joke that no one told us, as parents, we would celebrate Poop so much!! As our two older boys grew, Poop took its proper place in the toilet and left the forefront of our lives. Then Carter was born. Instead of Poop taking a backseat in our lives, it has become the star of the show. Poop was controlling our lives. My day could be made or broken by Carter’s diapers, consistency, frequency, size. Without really noticing, I let Poop have power. There were diapers that would have both Carter and me in tears. My older boys knew the drill for explosive diapers and were part of the Poop Patrol. We reached a point, where at 14 months old, when we should have been changing 4 diapers a day, we were changing between 10 and 14. It was crazy! We were using more diapers than we did when Carter was a newborn.
In an effort to rid Poop of it’s power, I began a quest for the Perfect Poop. The poop that wouldn’t burn his skin within seconds. The poop that wouldn’t be full of mucous or chunks of undigested food. The poop that wouldn’t leave it’s tell-tale smell in Carter’s room even hours after leaving his windows wide open. The poop that only comes once a day. The poop that wouldn’t explode out of all sides of his diaper and coat his crib. I didn’t think it would be too hard to find the Perfect Poop. I removed offending foods, cut out apples, bulked up on bananas. I did all the things the baby books and doctors tell you to do to help with poop problems, but to no avail. Poop was still winning. I began to realize that Carter’s GI tract was different. It was not a normal system with normal reactions. Carter’s Perfect Poop would never resemble that description in the baby book. His Perfect Poop goes by it’s own rules. If it doesn’t burn his skin off within seconds of exposure, we are in a good place. If the diaper manages to hold it all in, then we are doing something right. If the mucous is not accompanied by blood, we have succeeded. Carter’s Poop may still scare an unexpecting onlooker, but it’s good for him. Poop no longer has power in our house. Poop can no longer ruin my day. It may cover our clothes, skin and floor. It may burn our noses with the smell. But it washes off. A little soap and water and it’s gone. And someday Poop will no longer be a nemesis to contend with in our home. It will take it’s rightful place in the bathroom and Pamper’s and Desitin will miss their loyal customers. On that day, we will throw a Bon Voyage Party to Poop . . . And You Are All Invited!!!
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You left out the best part . . . His poops got so bad we actually created a "Code Brown" call-out to each other to indicate Cater had exploded and it was going to take both of use to clean it up; usually requiring a shower or bath for one or all of us!
ReplyDeleteI love this post! You took the words out my mouth, we however never were smart enough to make a "code brown"....lol.
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