Having a baby is an
amazing and glorious thing. But, WOW,
the things they don’t tell you or really prepare you for…! For example, I have caught poop with my
hands. I’ve stuck a thermometer in her tiny,
little tushy. There are days when I’m
sure my new perfume is “Sour Milk.”
Trust me, that’s not a smell that should be bottled!
As a new mom, I am
learning an awful lot of things that I just wasn’t prepared for. Sure, I knew they existed. I’m sure mothers I spoke with throughout my
pregnancy must have warned me of some of these things. Maybe I didn’t believe them; maybe I just
tucked them away in the back of my mind… who knows!? One thing is for sure: I wasn’t quite prepared
for this…
POOP:
When they tell you
about something called “projectile poo,” don’t disregard it as a fable. It exists!
This tiny little doll is capable of launching some pretty nasty
poo. Her current greatest measurement is
about a foot. Richard can’t wait to
explain to his teenage daughter where those two little brownish stains in her
room came from… And yes, when I’m in the
middle of changing her and she scrunches up that cute little face and I hear
the tell-tale rumblings, I have stuck my hand in front of her butt to catch it
before it hits the floor. Eww! But hey, our carpet is white…
Baby poop is
gross. I’ve been told that breastfed
babies don’t have the smelliest poo.
While I’m sure that’s true, it doesn’t mean that their poo smells like
roses. It does not! And sometimes that stuff sticks to her poor
little tush and I feel like I need steel wool to get her good and clean.
Samantha has developed
a reputation for pooping, getting a new diaper, waiting until she buttoned or
zipped back up, and then pooping again.
Her record on that routine so far is three diapers in less than fifteen
minutes. Of course, if she so much as
sneezes too hard she wants a new diaper.
Our little angel does not like to be dirty for even a minute.
SPIT UP:
Then, there is baby
spit up. I don’t mind a little spit
up. It happens. During my babysitting days I got spit up on
quite a bit. I was not prepared, though,
for the first time I watched my daughter empty the contents of her tiny
belly. (Poor Stacey, as she’s the one
who got soaked.) It was a fountain of
milk flowing from her mouth and nose. I
was horrified! I was terrified she’d
choke herself. It was awful! It was all liquid – none of the little chunky
flakes that come in spit up. The other
day, we both had to change our entire outfits – twice.
I’ll tell you a
secret. I don’t always change. My goodness, if I did, I’d run out of clothes
in a day or two. Sam stays clean or as
clean as I can keep her. I, on the other
hand, have greeted my hubby when he gets home from work with multiple splotches
on my clothes. I had no idea our laundry
would increase quite this much!
STUMPS:
I don’t mind admitting
I was also grossed out by her umbilical cord stump. We were told to occasionally wiggle it around
to get air to the base. I did it, but
VERY reluctantly. It felt gross and the
base of it looked gross. I’m convinced
that they dye it black to hide how gross it would be. When it finally fell off, I was so relieved
that I wouldn’t have to tug at it anymore.
It still took a few days for her belly button to look like a normal
belly button.
SNOT:
Finally, baby boogies. Unfortunately, Little Miss got her first cold
at three weeks. So we quickly became
familiar with baby boogies. It sucks
because at this age you can’t ask her to blow.
We used the little suction bulb to help clear her nasal passages, but it
didn’t do a fantastic job. My mom got us
some saline filled q-tips to help clear her out. They helped.
The worst, though, was when she’d have a nice big boogie just far enough
back that I couldn’t reach it with my fingernail and that was sticky enough to
not budge for the suction bulb. I really
hated seeing my Pea so miserable and that there was next to nothing I could do
to make it better.
LOVE:
When I first thought
about having a baby, I focused so much on all the wonderful things – the snuggling,
the love, the way her hair would smell, watching her grow up, making mud pies,
and Christmas mornings. I neglected to
think about things like colds or how I would feel when she hurts or the days
when she’s just downright cranky. I didn’t
anticipate how much my heart would break when she’s crying so hard and I can’t
find anything wrong with her and nothing seems to make her feel better. I didn’t realize how protective I’d
feel. Sometimes the urge to just snatch
her away when someone else is holding her is overwhelming – not that they’re
doing anything wrong; it’s just, she’s mine.
While I think I’m pretty good at sharing her, there are days or times I
really don’t want to share. I don’t
think anything can really prepare you for those moments.
And it’s a strange
feeling to be soooooo tired that you can barely stand it and all you want to do
is go back to sleep, but there she is – dirty or with a tummy ache. It doesn’t matter how tired you are, because
she needs you. It doesn’t matter how
gross it might be to clean up sticky, smelly poo from the floor, because it has
to be done. I was a little worried that
I was too selfish, too set in my routines.
I worried that I might resent her because I was losing so much sleep or
perhaps that I’d get annoyed or tired of changing her diaper. Sure, I get tired of changing her diaper when
it’s been three in a row and she’s starting to make that face again. There are definitely nights when she starts
crying that I want to cry too, as I pull myself out of bed to feed and change
her. But even those times when I’m
feeling tired or annoyed, all I have to do is look at her sweet little face and
all of that just melts away. Those
negative feelings become totally and completely insignificant. All I feel is love, love, love.
*LOVE*
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