This is what my life has come to.
Nyla has been constipated for the last few days, so obviously we have tried everything to relieve her...hello, did you read the last post? Well today, I received the fruits of our labor. Well, I wouldn't exactly call it "fruits"...
Let me set the scene. I'm sitting on the couch with a lovely quilt made by my Aunt Tere Sue wrapped around my legs. My Nyla is resting in my arms, just making her cooing noises and being adorable. "Khloe and Lamar" is on the TV. Life is pretty sweet at this moment. All is well. And then, the blowout.
In the span of five seconds, the scene went from serene to disgusting. All of our tummy rubbing, bathing, prune juice feeding, "massaging", water drinking for Nyla came flowing out all at once. While Nyla was sitting in my arms, she unleashed the poop. It. Was. Everywhere.
EVERYWHERE.
Up her back, up the front, in her toes, on my pants, on the quilt, and absolutely everywhere in the diaper. There was no trace of white diaper at all, not even on the little securing pieces you use to attach the diaper.
I don't think I've ever moved as fast as I did to get up off the couch. For being super grossed out, I moved like an agile cat, over the coffee table and into the room to the changing table. Obviously, it was time for an immediate bath.
After she was cleaned up and back to smelling like a gentle and innocent baby, I thought to myself, "Elizabeth, this is what your life has come to." And yes, that is the truth. I find myself worrying about my daughter's bowel movements more than anything these days. Really? Is this parenting? Worrying about baby poop? It is for us right now. One day, I'm sure we will worry about other things. This week, though, is all about Nyla's movements.
PS: While writing this blog, Nyla barfed all over Paul. No, I'm not kidding.
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