This blog post will begin with me asking if you are squeamish? Do you gag easily or find bodily functions parcticularly gross-especially those of infants?? If you answered yes to any of those then this blog post is not for you...pretend you didn't see it and don't read it.
As for me, I must blog about it because...well because I can and because everyone else finds it SOOOOO funny.
I consider myself a 'Real' mother now. No, I am not talking the instant I heard "It's a girl!" two months ago...and it certainly never happened when I pee'd on a stick last year or the nine months that followed. Nope, never did I feel then as I do now. That was all pre-game...a warmup. Heck, that was all the minor leagues compared to things now. When did this happen? How does this happen?
It could have happened the day my daughter paused in the middle of eating to unlatch and sneeze breastmilk into my face. And my partially opened mouth.
But, there was also the night when I picked her up to calm her fussiness and she spit up. LITERALLY. Up into my face and my hair as I held her in my arms and looked down at her.
Wait, that is much too similar to the time I had her on my shoulder trying to burp her and she spit so much that it ran down my collarbone, into my cleavage and settled in my bra. SEXY
These compare not at all the the exact moment it happened. The moment when I was a real honest-to-goodness-I love my kid so much I would do anything-fear nothing-seen it all-put their needs and comfort first-REAL mother. But even a real mother can have a weak stomach, right? Even I can be disgusted and yet still take care of things right? That is just how I felt the other day when my daughter showed us she could eat and fill her pants at the same time. And POOPED in my HAND! Yes, she shot it upward and out of the top of her diaper while I held her close to me and fed her the 'momma juice' from my own body. This child who has the smile of an angel, whose coo's can make my heart melt pooped in my hand. Maybe this was her way of saying 'hey mom, you make goooood stuff'. Maybe?? Or no?
These kinds of potty breaks, the diaper escaping kind, are common in breastfed infants as our pediatrician told me. Gee, thanks. The kind doctor also told me a personal story of her own to make me feel better about it but that was before my own poo in the hand incident happened so I don't feel so bad for her anymore. Because, well her story did not involve poo landing in her hand.
Brad and I have now become double diaper parents. Yes, Caroline is wearing two diapers to cut down on the escapees. I can't wash the bouncy seat cover every day anymore. I can't lose any more jammies to poo stains that aren't going away. I can't take it on my jeans, soaking through to my undies as I hold the little miracle anymore :) She is wearing two diapers until this passes and she doesn't mind it one bit. Mom is doing much better too. But, that could be because dad handled almost every poopy diaper this weekend and my only contact came when she did it while in my lap.
Go ahead. Be jealous. This is MY life.
And I love it. I never want a different job again. Poopy hand and all :)
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