Extreme poop

Yes, I'm writing about poop.

But, it's a daily part of my life. So, why not? Right? Besides, when you read this story you will understand why it needs to be a part of blog history.

Anyways, here are some pictures of Elias from several months back. (Soon-to-be parents, turn the other way. This will horrify you.) And yes, we documented this incident because it was so freaking pooptastic.

As you can see, there was poop. Plenty of poop. All was well in the world.

But now, now we have the opposite extreme on our hands. Quite literally, actually, on my hands.

A little history. Both Asher and Elias had to take Miralax daily (baby does, ped approved) when they started solids. Their little systems just couldn't handle the new poop in their world. But Elias has taken it to a whole new extreme. Bless his heart.

Last week, he'd been almost a week without pooping. Which, many doctors will say can be just fine for a baby (or at least a breastfed baby, because that's all I really know). But Elias was not fine. He was clearly uncomfortable. And, after a few little hard stools, we upped the Miralax doses and increased the prune frequency in his meals. That didn't seem to help.

One afternoon, Joni said he was really struggling to poop. Straining. Red face. You know the drill, right mamas? So, I did a little infant suppository. Usually that does the trick.

This time, it worked. Sort of. He immediately needed to poop. And it was STUCK. And I mean STUCK. He screamed and cried for what felt like hours. Joni and I kept checking his diaper and looking at each other like, "What the EFF are we supposed to do?"

We tried rubbing his belly and putting him in a warm sink of water. And we could see there was poop. But it was stuck. In our sight, yes. And not coming out. The water made him scream more.

I picked up the phone and called the doc. My favorite nurse answered (thank you, God) and she said, "Honey, do you have any gloves and some petroleum jelly?" I thought, "I was afraid you'd say that. Shit." Instead, I said, "Yes ma'm. Let me gather my supplies."

Joni kept soothing a crying (read: miserable, hysterical) Elias while I prepared. Favorite Nurse gave me a pep talk on the line. I was to put on the gloves, lubricate Elias' poor bottom and pull out the poop. Now, you can stop reading if you want to. And I wouldn't blame you. But, if you're brave. Read on.

I started pulling out little pieces of rock hard poop. Elias kept screaming. Joni was trying to not gag and cry at the same time. (Elias was really pitiful.) Asher was eaitng M&M's or something to stay occupied.

Then, I reached a point where I couldn't do anymore. And there was so much stuck in there. I could see it.

Favorite Nurse said, "Ok Momma, now he may tear. And that's ok. Just do your best." I said, "It's huge and I can't get it! Really? He may TEAR?" And Favorite Nurse said, "Ok, well, you're going to have to get a thermometer and use that to poke in there and break apart the poop. Use it to cut the poop. Then, it'll be in pieces that you can get out."

Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. This is not happening.

Oh, but it did. I did as I was instructed. Favorite nurse was encouraging me. Elias was screaming. Joni was traumatized.

But ladies and gentleman of the internet, I did it. I broke apart the world's largest shit ball with a thermometer and saved my poor baby from endless pain. That thing wasn't coming out on its own. I did it. I'm a poop hero.

(And for the record, we're adding more Miralax to the daily meal plan and trying to keep him more regular. So far, so good.)

Congrats if you actually made it this far in this story of stool. And if you've done this poop digging before, I commend you. It's no easy feat. Whew.

The things you'll do for love.