This post is all about poop. If you do not currently have a toddler and therefore the accompanying worrying obsession with poop, I highly recommend that you skip this post in it's entirety. Here, go look at this nice picture instead. (Although, ew. The only thing I find more distasteful on a man than chest hair is a necklace. And then again, I saw a picture of someone or other with chest hair recently and found myself thinking hey, that isn't so bad, so I might be coming around on that. I'm giving no ground on the necklace though.) Or, if you have a penis and/or happen to swing that way, you can go admire this picture. (My husband thinks she's hot, but I dunno. I think she would look a lot better if she had some snacks.)
Now, let's talk poop. And I wasn't planning to go into this in the least, but I've gotten a whole pile of emails from people asking me about it so I figured what the hell. When Mia is being a petulant teenager someday I can tell her I told the entire internet about her poop issues and give her something to really hate me for, which I am sure she will appreciate as it will save her the trouble of coming up with reasons on her own.
Let's see.... several weeks ago, Mia got a little constipated. She was obviously uncomfortable with the whole pooping process and in order to do it needed to be clinging to my neck with a death grip and moaning quietly. Applying the inimitable logic of two-year-olds, Mia decided that she would just solve this problem by refusing to poop in the future. Apparently, this is a common thought-process among the toddler set. The flaw in Mia's plan was that as a living organism she is required by biology to excrete sooner or later and by doing everything in her power to make sure it was always later she was making the problem much worse.
I made her drink so much liquid that she had a three gallon diaper every couple of hours. I pushed fiber. I tried to make her eat prunes and peaches and anything else that might possibly help. I tried everything listed in my baby books and everything I could find on the internet and let me tell you, my kid has one stubborn sphincter because nothing worked. She would spend two days dancing around the house grabbing at her cute little bottom telling me she was not, no way, no how, going to poop and then finally succumb to the forces of nature. This began to involve crying, then screaming, and then early this week two instances of gagging such that I really believed she was going to make herself throw up.
We went to the doctor. I'd been avoiding it because I don't like to medicate Mia when it is not absolutely necessary, but I decided that stopping my baby from being in pain made it absolutely necessary. The Hotty Pediatrician put her on Miralax (which is over the counter, but dudes, so do not give it to your kid without at least calling your doctor, you know?). He said to do three days of two doses a day and then a week of one dose a day. The idea was that it would first of all get her pooping and clear out anything that is backed up in there making it hard to poop, and second of all make the poop stop hurting so that she would decide pooping was an ok thing to do after all and stop causing herself problems.
We started on Wednesday afternoon. It's a powder that you just mix in their juice or water. I've been telling Mia when I am giving it to her and explaining that it is medicine to make the poop stop hurting her bottom. It kicked in this morning. And if you want to know what I mean by "kicked in," I refer you back to the title of this post. I'll just say that on top of the diaper changes I've had to change her entire outfit three times and my own once.
It has not been a pleasant day for me, to be sure. Mia however, while a bit disconcerted that she keeps pooping, is very, very happy that it does not hurt. She even explained to me quite carefully that her bottom didn't hurt anymore and that it made her smile. And that, I hope, will be pretty much the end of this particular poop saga. And also I hope that by this point she's shot her wad and we are done for the day, because I only have but so many pairs of maternity pants and I don't know how many more blow-outs I can survive before I run out entirely.
And I fully expect to get at least one comment on this post about how I am a stupid waste of space mommyblogger and that nobody in the whole damned world cares about my kid's poop and I should just shut the hell up already and stop polluting the world with the contents of my head. (Hurry! If you act now, maybe you can be first!) But the fact is that there really are people who want to hear about this because they are having the same problem themselves and it's one of those things that isn't cut and dry. Should you do X? Should you do Y? Should you just go get yourself another bottle of wine and worry about it tomorrow? (That last thing is a definite yes.) So yeah, I'll talk about poop. You may never have had to worry about it, but I'm willing to bet that your mom did.