Since bringing Abraham home, I couldn’t believe the amount of mistakes I would make even after reading all these books and attending all the classes. I didn’t even know how to put a diaper on a newborn correctly until my husband showed me. MY HUSBAND showed ME. Now that is humbling. Swaddling was a joke for the first week. My baby Houdini could find his way out of anything. Oh, and it’s important to secure your baby in the car seat even if you’re just going for a walk with the stroller…’cuz you feel REALLY badly when you open up the sunshade and see him doubled over on himself, head on knees, trying to somehow continue his nap.
I started talking to other moms in an attempt to feel somewhat normal about my fumbles, and the stories I heard were incredible! Some of the ridiculous things we moms have done in the first months of our childrens’ lives MUST be shared. So over the next few weeks, I’ll be sharing some real mom stories I’ve collected from friends and family. Email me or Facebook me if you want to share yours. Of course, all stories are anonymous!
After about 4 days of breastfeeding, my milk came in. As everyone predicted, I did turn into Dolly Parton for a hot minute. But the transition happening in Abe’s tummy was more of my concern.
A new mom, poop had become a military-esque mission. I tracked every poop down to the minute. Poop was the ardent new word in my husband and I’s conversations. “When did he poop?” “Did you change him, did he poop?” “Was that gas or a poop?”
When Abe didn’t poop for an entire 24-hours, I began to get nervous. I called the pediatrician, who assured me this could be perfectly normal. She suggested a few different massages to help get things moving. She also explained how checking his rectal temperature could stimulate his bowels. Well, I massaged and massaged and the poor kid remained all stopped up. I decided to try and take his rectal temperature, something I’d never done or even seen done to a newborn. Afraid I would hurt him, I just barely put the tip of the thermometer in his bottom. He didn’t seem to notice it, so I twirled it the way our pediatrician described. Nothing. A little sleep deprived and a little curious, I decided the best thing to do would be to get eye to eye with his bottom to ensure I had the thermometer in the right place. Not my brightest moment. The second I got eye level, you guessed it, poop. Not just poop. Projectile hot orange poop…straight in my face. I stood up, stunned, reaching for wipes or diapers or anything to get this off me. Furiously wiping myself off I looked down at Abe, who was now peeing directly onto his own face. This was half awful and half amazing. Both of us covered in poo and pee, I decided this was a perfectly acceptable situation in which to laugh hysterically as opposed to my go-to emotion of the week, sobbing uncontrollably. I laughed through all the clean up and the new diaper. And I learned a good lesson!