Category: Motherhood and Pregnancy

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Allergies Motherhood and Pregnancy

Allergies

Today Blythe and I visited the poop doctor   pediatric allergist and were given some very interesting information.  First of all, there is a very simple blood test (and by simple I mean, easy for them, gut wrenching for me) that will determine once and for all whether Blythe’s immunizations caused her poop allergy.  So tomorrow morning I will take her back to the house of torture hospital where they will again attempt to stick needles into her veins.  The blood will be tested for an allergy to LATEX, EGGS, and GELATIN.  Because apparently there is quite a bit of all that stuff in the vaccinations*.  Blythe and I both have to go on a no-egg diet for a MONTH, until her next appointment.  Good thing all the Easter eggs are GONE.  And too bad I ate most of them, because that means Blythe ate them.  Stinkin’ Easter Bunny.

If she shows no improvement and the blood tests are inconclusive, we’ll have to do the scratch test.  Which involves, apparently, sticking my baby girl 21 times in the back with little needles.  So, my current mental conversation with God goes something like, “Please let her be allergic to eggs.  No, rather, gelatin.  Oh wait, is there gelatin in a lot of stuff?  OK, how about Latex?  Kim’s allergic to Latex and she just can’t use condoms or play with balloons, so let’s go with LATEX.  OK, God?”  Hopefully he’s getting my memos.

*So raise your hand if you think it’s more than slightly irresponsible of the medical community to be injecting large quantities of a substance known to cause allergic reactions in babies at 2, 4, and 6 months of age?  Eggs are such a known allergen that you’re supposed to start them off with the tiniest little bit of yolk, and work your way up gradually to whites, and then up to larger quantities of whole eggs.  Yet they want to just jam a needle full of eggs into tiny babies?  Repeatedly, at two month intervals?  Maybe they should roll them around in a vat of peanut butter and honey, just to cover all the bases.

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Food Motherhood and Pregnancy

Eggs… again.

Today I ate an egg for lunch.  And an egg for snack.  I think Easter Eggs were a torture device created for parents who refuse to waste food.  I’ve only got about 10 left to go.  Will I make it to the end, people?  Or will the Easter Bunny defeat me this year?

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Motherhood and Pregnancy PPD

Baby Bruises

You all remember the poop?  Well it was joined by the vomit, and they both ruled this household ALL DANG WEEK.  Fortunately Blythe was the only one actually doing any poopin’ (well, you know – everyone poops but I’m talking about projectile pooping) and vomiting but the rest of us got to console her and manage to live here with the stench.  By Thursday afternoon she was just a sad little pathetic mess, and I decided I’d better get her to the doctor.  She lost almost 3 pounds (!!) in just 9 days, so we had to go over to the hospital and get some IV fluids. 

Let me tell you, people, I have never been so traumatized as to hold down my 10 month old baby while they try over, and over, and over again to find a vein.  Here’s how the conversation in my head went, “Please God, I will never again complain about how many times my kids wake me up in the night if you will just let them find a vein.  Please, please, please”.  And then when they finally found one in her foot (the second location tried, the first one being her left hand) it went like this, “Oh God, thank you, I will keep my promise, I sure will.”  And then when the vein blew and Blythe’s blood squirted all over the hospital bed, it went like this, “Oh God, that was so mean.  Are you kidding me, here?  Ok, I promise I’ll never again complain about how often I have to deal with poop in a day.  Will that do?  Please, God, please, please, please”.  And in the meantime, Blythe is crying her head off, and looking me right in the eye as she screams, “MAMA!”.  She doesn’t understand why I’m letting these people strap her down and poke her, and all I’m doing petting her head, drying her tears and saying, “Mama’s here”.  What kind of consolation is THAT?  They finally found a good vein in her right arm, and we spent another 4 hours entertaining each other on the hospital bed before she got released. 

I think one of the worst parts of PPD is how you don’t really connect with people when you’re in that state.  Over the past couple of months since I’ve started getting better, I’ve bonded pretty well with Blythe.  But those 4 hours when we HAD to sit on a bed together with nothing to distract us… I must say, we connected in a way we never had before.  Every day since then, we’ve spent some quiet time, just the two of us, bonding.  So through all of that, and the ensuing bruises she sported with her little pink Easter dress today, there was some good in the end. 

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Motherhood and Pregnancy

And the poop continues…

I feel compelled to put out some instructions for any of you out there who are battling your own baby poop issues.  Or who just want to laugh at me as I battle mine.

Situation:

Your diapered child poops through her pants (more like explodes) while you are trying to eat for the umpteenth time (seriously – is there some sort of mental trigger that releases the sphincter everytime I try to put something tasty in my mouth?  And if so, would it be possible for me get a bite or two in first?). 

Your response:

Until now, your response has been to immediately remove the child from her chair (being careful not to let her press up against you – learned THAT one quick) and lay her on the changing pad in her room.  You may possibly have even thought to put down a lap pad in an attempt to contain the mess.  Good thinkin’!  Strip her down while keeping her hands and feet OUT of the mess (much harder than it sounds).  Wipe her up as best as you can, pile soiled clothing in a small heap (for later*) and carry her into the bathroom for a bath.  Allow child to stand next to bath as you run it, then place her in, wash, dry, re-dress, hopefully in something DARK, probably pajamas.

Your NEW, ‘I’m totally gonna avoid half the mess’ strategy:

Immediately remove child from her chair, holding her like the dad in ‘Mr. Mom’, and carry her to the bathroom.  Allow child to stand next to bath as you run it.  Begin to strip child down and wipe with wipes as you go.  Hear a “splat” sound that can’t be good.  Oh, ick.  The poop is actually splattering out of the diaper onto the floor.  You can’t lay your child down on a cold tile floor, so you just have to work faster.  Remove diaper, and wipe, wipe wipe.  Wipe, wipe.  Wipe.  Wipe up splats of poop on floor before child can step in them.  Oh no, there is poop all over her foot and between her toes.  Wipe, wipe, wipe.  Finish removing jammies and place to the side in a small heap (for later*).  Double check that you got all of the actual poop off of child before placing in tub – wash, dry, re-dress, hopefully in something dark, probably pajamas. 

For later:

Wash out poopy clothing, being sure to check yours because yes, that lingering poop smell is coming from the front of your shirt, or possibly your sleeve.  And if you did the NEW technique, you’ll need to be sure to get all of the poop out of the TOE OF YOUR CHILD’S FOOTIE JAMMIES because, yes, that is how she got poop all over her foot.  Gravity is SO mean like that, you should have laid her on her back instead of letting her STAND NEXT TO THE TUB.

And be quick, the next show starts… well, the next time you’re hungry!

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Letters Motherhood and Pregnancy

10 Months

Dear Blythe,

Today you turned 10 months old.  Which seems just amazing to me, that you are in the “double digits” already.  Those hours, days and weeks that seemed to last forever are long gone.  Ma’Maw told me that as a parent of small children, the days will last forever and the years will fly by in an instant.  I know she was trying to console me when times were tough and remind me to enjoy the moment, and I’m glad she did.

You were suddenly, violently ill today.  You threw up for the first time ever, while you were eating lunch, and I thought you were choking (although, choking on pureed soup?  Pretty hard to do.) and just as I prepared to give you the baby-heimlich, SPEW, there it all went, out of your nose and everything.  I was so scared seeing you like that, my hands didn’t stop shaking for at least an hour.  But you happily enjoyed your bath and didn’t bat an eye.  Not even when you pooped through your pants 3 times (twice before I finally realized that dressing you in white today was not the best idea) and had an equal number of baths today.  I’m so lucky that you are such a happy baby – not even the stomach flu can keep you down.

Last night you figured out how to clap for the first time.  Of course I busted out the video camera.  You have been clapping all day, and get so excited when we clap with you.  Daddy says you must be right handed, since you pretty much hold your left hand still and do all the clapping-motions with your right hand.  I say, you are pretty smart!  Because coordinating two moving hands is quite a bit tougher than just one.

You are so nosy curious, and are content to explore the things around you for what seems like an hour at a time.  You are also (so far) very good at listening when I tell you “No.”.  Sometimes you test me, to see if I’m watching.  You’ll go over to something you know you’re not allowed to play with (like the trim between the wood and tile floor), look intently at it, look at me, then smile.  I give you “the look” and a gentle, “No, Blythe” and you’ll just mosey on, to find something else.  You pull yourself up on just about anything these days, and I think you’ll be trying that first step pretty soon.
            
My life is so much richer with you in it – harder, yes, but that isn’t your fault.  When it’s just you and me, life is EASY, which is why I find it so hard to believe I never got anything done when Alison was your age.  You are everything I ever could have hoped for, all those months we wished for you, and then some.

Here I am, one year ago, anxiously awaiting your arrival:



All my love,
Mama