Bundles

Some people receive bundles of joy when they leave the hospital with a brand new, bouncy baby. We received a bundle of gas.

Our newest story of gastrointestinal sadness with Maggie is not intended for the faint of heart… warning has now been posted and I can proceed without caution and in great detail that my daughter will someday read and shrink away in embarrassment…

The first week of the little dear’s life we checked with the pediatrician about the massive amounts of spit up she could produce. He said she was gaining weight and so he wasn’t worried in the least.

Several weeks after that I mentioned that she doesn’t seem to be able to have the bowel movements I had come to expect. After being quizzed about whether she was formula or breastfed I was told that she couldn’t possibly be constipated since she’s breastfed and she’s gaining weight, so not to worry…

Last week when we went in I noted that she’s still miserably unhappy a good deal of the time. Pediatrician suggested that I switch formulas. I noted that she’s still being breastfed and so I’m actually poisoning my child each time she eats. My neurotic explanation of poisoning was pooh-poohed and he told me that I could continue with my not so successful attempts at getting her to eat a peppermint stick (thank you Lord that it’s Christmas and candy canes are readily available) and that if things got ugly and she didn’t have a bowel movement for several days I could try a suppository (just what I’ve always dreamed of administering to my offspring).

Well, we took a family vacation to Colorado this week and on day three we were still without any output. Maggie’s belly was bloated up like a bagpipe and she was so unhappy. We discussed it and decided that we were ready to proceed with the suppository plan of attack.

A trip to the grocery store, a discussion with the clerk, and the selection of said suppository. Back to the condo, trimming the fingernails and washing thoroughly, both parents on call (my dear sweet, we’re in this together!!!), and viola, insertion complete. Time: 7 p.m.

Fast-forward… Maggie wakes up at 11:30 p.m. with cheeks flushed scarlet. She’s groaning and moaning and crying with this raspy little voice. I check the suppository package and read that it’s supposed to be effective within 15 – 60 minutes! Panic!

Daddy gets the legs pumping and I call the after-hours pediatrician. I leave a message with the answering service and then begin to wait for the return call, wondering if I’ve actually poisoned my child from the bottom up this time. Daddy gets a few toots out. I pace, waiting for the phone to ring.

Finally the phone rings! As I try to calm my heart to answer it I hear a clap of thunder. It rocked the entire house. I answer the phone and look at Isaiah, who says, “Way to go, baby!” I realize that she’s possibly not going to die from a suppository.

I talked to the nurse and found out that she couldn’t have died anyway… apparently they’re a pretty harmless medicine and she’s just happy that Maggie’s had a movement. I cordially thank her for calling me in the middle of the night (I wonder if they’re going to charge me? It doesn’t matter, I’ll pay it…)

Off the phone, I look at Isaiah and realize that he’s holding Maggie in a strange way. While he had been pumping her legs he had taken her pj’s off. When the thunder clap came she exploded not only in her diaper, but also ALL over Isaiah’s lap. He requested some help.

I quickly delivered the changing supplies and he shucked the jeans… and when we opened that glorious diaper we discovered the suppository, in the exact same shape that it had gone in, and realized that it had actually acted as a plug for the poor child! Apparently she doesn’t generate the body heat needed to melt the little booger. Good to know, a mostly useless fact that may save her life one day… who knows?

Anyway, I’m pleased to report that she’s had a movement every day since, so maybe the experience was worth it…

We also had a blast sledding and dancing while on our trip. Mia has discovered the joy of head banging in the car seat. We also sing the ABC’s and Where Is Thumbkin and The Wheels On The Bus ad naseum while driving. Life is good.

Izzy and I were able to spend a few half-days snowboarding and I’m really excited to report that I am now able to carve! I only have a severely bruised tailbone and miscellaneous contusions to show for my newly-acquired skills.