Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Oh What A Morning!

*WARNING - this is about poop*

It's 9:00am. How many of you have been pooped and peed on? More than once? No one? So that's just me I guess. Awesome.

The night after G was born Husband and I had the pleasure of experiencing our first midnight diaper change. I remember it well. Little wrinkly newborn G started his pathetic little cry from the bassinet next to my hospital bed. Husband, being a man of action decided it was time for a diaper change. We slowly unwrapped his hospital blanket like he was a delicate present. Husband then gently began the process of opening the diaper, careful not to bump the umbilical cord area. We were in luck, just a little pee in the diaper. As husband began to lift little G's bottom to take the dirty diaper away it happened. Like the La Brea Tar Pits, thick black poo began to ooze out of our sweet delicate baby. It flowed and flowed. Quickly we grabbed cloths to wipe it up, thick black tar-like poop was everywhere. Thankfully the flow eventually stopped. In a midnight stupor we cleaned up the mess and returned our now clean sweet boy to his bassinet where if memory serves, he did not sleep. Somehow I have since managed to avoid much contact with my little man's poop. Sure I have changed the dirty diapers but usually they are already dirty and all I have to do is take them away. Actually watching it come out and subsequently getting it everywhere has been limited to that one night in the hospital. Until today.

Last Thursday my little guy finally cut his first tooth. It was kind of surprising because he really wasn't exhibiting many symptoms. Other than the drooling and chomping he had been doing for the past three months nothing had changed, he was as happy as can be. Wednesday night we went to bed, no teeth. Then, Thursday morning as he was chomping away on my hand I felt something sharp. Sure enough there was a little tooth beginning to poke through his lower gums. I was sure that would be the beginning of a crazy fussy baby, but magically he stayed in good spirits. Then on Sunday I noticed a change. Although he was still a pretty happy baby I noticed his tolerance for things had gone down considerably. When he was done playing on the floor, he was done. If I didn't get him, complete and utter meltdown. He also started having diarrhea. It's really hard to tell when a baby has this but it seemed pretty watery and he ended up going to the bathroom (can you say that about babies since they don't go to the actual bathroom to do their business?) 4 or 5 times that day, way out of the norm for him. It was the same yesterday. More fussiness and diaper changes about 7 times. As a side effect G developed quite the little red/raw bottom.

Hoping that it was just teething making my poor baby feel bad I put him to bed. This morning as he slept beside me, he began to make these terrible grunting noises and started thrashing back and forth. That's when I heard it, a blowout of epic proportions. Quickly I removed his sleepsuit and rushed him to the changing table. Sure enough more diarrhea. I cleaned him up and decided I should probably call the doctor. Wanting to be thorough I decided to take his temperature. As the thermometer started to take the reading I heard a little "pop" and looked down just in time to see poop flying out, all over the thermometer, the table and my hand. Now if you know me, you know that I'm relatively squeamish. Believe it or not I don't actually enjoy talking about poop, much less having it all over my hand. However, I remained calm and quickly cleaned up the mess and attempted to take his temperature again. More poop. Just as I got him clean for the second time and began to aim the thermometer back at my target (I was determined to get a reading) a small stream of pee began to shoot up into the air. Somehow I managed to avoid the tiny spray and I continued on with my mission. This time he peed again, more forcefully, I tried to block the stream with my hand but before I could he shot himself in the eye. UGH! Then, I kid you not, as I was wiping off his face he pooped again. WTF??? After all of that I finally got his temperature, 99.9. Normal for him is usually around 98.1 but the pediatrician has already informed me that they don't care about temperatures unless they are over 100.

After sanitizing the baby and his room little G played on the floor like all was right in the world. He chomped away on his Sophie the giraffe quite gleefully as I scrubbed my hands and arms with antibacterial soap. Thankfully he is now napping while I decide what to do about his diarrhea. Do I chalk it up to teething or put in a call to the pediatrician only to have them tell me it's normal? Decisions decisions.