I’ve never liked to spend much time thinking about my bodily functions. I prefer to think of my digestive system’s inner workings the way I think about the kitchens of restaurants—I know that’s where the action happens, but I don’t want to see, hear or know what goes on in there; I only want to enjoy the final product.
Despite my disdain for dwelling on digestion (how many D words can I use in one sentence??), I find myself spending a large chunk of my day—far larger than I’d care to–contemplating my son’s digestive activity. If I’m not encouraging Drew to let out a burp, I’m wondering when his next poop will come and when it does, fretting over its consistency. The poop! It’s not soft enough!
Just between, well, ALL OF YOU, and me, I’ve done some surprising (and surprisingly embarrassing) things. Just this morning I squeezed (through the diaper!) Drew’s poop to make sure it wasn’t too hard. With this hot weather and the traumatic, sweaty meltdowns he’s had when having a bowel movement, I’ve been worrying that the boy is dehydrated or not getting enough fiber, or both. Can we take a minute to talk about the meltdowns? If they weren’t so heartbreaking to watch, they’d be downright hilarious. The kid’s face turns bright red, his mouth opens wide in horror and he looks at me as if to say, ‘what is happening to me, mom?!’ This can go on for a few minutes, and I find myself murmuring in calm, soothing tones, ‘It’s ok, Drew, push it out.’ Safe to say that that line was on the list of Things I Never Imagined I Would One Day Say. At the end of this tragic show, he’s sweaty and whimpering while I’m chuckling on the inside and shaking my head in disbelief that I just coached somebody through the act of taking a shit.
I’ve taken every precaution to ensure Drew’s getting the right foods to keep things moving—a few ounces of water here and there, plums for breakfast, oatmeal for a side dish. I feel like one of those commercials that air during the nightly news or 60 minutes. ‘Restore your body’s natural rhythm! Talk to your doctor about Miralax!’
Parenthood. It doesn’t get much more humbling than this.
Tags: Drew, motherhood, summer