Last week our daughter A had a major case of the runs. It started when we were with our friends at the zoo, and we had to do a wardrobe change near the pandas. Then it wouldn’t go away.
Later that night she woke us up with a horrible scream. Poop was EVERYWHERE in her crib: sheets, mattress, and mattress pad. Poor girl. Working together, my husband and I got her all cleaned up and got her in the pack-n-play within 15 minutes. We even changed C’s diaper for good measure. I was quite impressed with our teamwork at 3 a.m.
I quickly thought back to the baby basics classes we took at the hospital before she was born. They talked about poop and how it’s an indicator of an infant’s health. Frantic, I got on my blackberry and began a search for, well, poop.
I had no idea there were so many websites (with not-for-the-faint-of-heart photos) dedicated to poop. Color, size, texture, consistency… it goes on and on. This site was my favorite. For all you mommies and daddies out there of infants, this is a good one to bookmark to revisit in a pinch (no pun intended).
The runs carried on for several days. At one point my Facebook status update said:
“All I can say is that a bathtub was involved when we were leaving.”
Yep. Another blowout. This time, my husband was the sole recipient. I must say that being a parent of twins makes you extremely focused and resourceful with your time. At this point we stripped her, bathed her and changed her into new clothes within 20 minutes.
I am now obsessed with poop. We monitored her food in-take, switching to rice and bananas or applesauce and she had to begin drinking soy-based formula. I was so worried she would become dehydrated, and have another blowout. She is so little and cannot tell us how she really feels or what she needs. And we really had to make sure that everything (and everyone) that comes in contact with her is clean so C didn’t eventually get it. I’d call my parents during the days I was at the office just to ask about what her poops were like.
I even took a photo of her diaper today and sent a photo to my husband to show him that she is on the mend. (I was so excited.) It feels like every other conversation I have is about poop. I really need to curb using that four-letter, foul-smelling word. But I can’t help it.
Plus, I think I could become a billionaire if I can make a version of Pedialyte that she would actually drink. She hated it. And apparently every other baby who has had to drink it hates it too.
But it could be worse. This could have happened.