Poop! Poop! Poop!

My milk was slow to come, and, towards the end of my baby’s first week there was much talk about augmenting. I kept hoping that it was unnecessary, but my daughter wasn’t gaining weight, and although she was peeing quite a bit, she wasn’t pooping.

We made multiple visits to doctors and lactation consultants. Finally, one lactation consultant, an earthy Jamaican lady, said that it looks like the milk will be sufficient and the baby will poop sometime soon.

“Prepare yourself. I have a feeling that it will be a big poop!”

Sure enough my daughter pooped that very evening. I thought to myself, if that’s a lot of poop, I can deal.

My husband produced the last remaining bottle from our wedding to toast the occasion. Yet the next day was poop-deprived again, and I began to worry. That evening my daughter was sleeping in her car seat while her exhausted new parents stared at the TV screen. All of a sudden her face turned red and she produced the special two-step cry she favored the first month and a half of her life. Curiously she was still sound asleep.

“I bet you if anything, she pooped again,” – I said.

We brought her upstairs to her changing table, took of her diaper – and there it was, the megapoop we were warned about!

Since then she was pooping with ease. Her favorite place to poop is her changing table. We raise her legs to clean her tender behind, so, naturally, any leftover poop storms out. Sometimes there is quite a bit left because she projectile poops on the table, the wall and even the dresser across the room. She’s quite wiggly, and she manages to stick her feet into her soiled diaper despite our best efforts to restrain her.

Lately she began to display some grace, though. While we agonize about stopping her poop midair she gives us her very special big toothless changing-table grin.

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June 26, 2007. Breedosaurus.

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