There are many types of gasses in the world.

As I wrote yesterday’s post I realized I’ve widely shared Uno’s poop issues with the story of Uno and the Poopie Feast. But I haven’t ever exposed Dos’ little issue and I am nothing if not even-handed and fair.

 

So, back from the ages of 2007, here’s a little story of our Dos, a stinker from the get-go:

 

Some people receive bundles of joy when they leave the hospital with a brand new, bouncy baby. We received a bundle of gas wrapped in baby fat.

 

Our newest story of gastrointestinal distress is not intended for the faint of heart… if you aren’t so interested in learning about what can happen when your kid doesn’t utilize all the options available to the excretory system, no harm, no foul, go along to another site for the day.

 

Warning has now been posted and I can proceed without caution and in detail. (My daughter will someday read this and shrink in embarrassment…)

 

First, the back story:

 

The first week of Dos’ life we checked with the pediatrician about the massive amounts of spit up she produced. He said she was gaining weight on track so he wasn’t worried in the least.

 

Several weeks after that I mentioned that she didn’t have regular bowel movements. I was told that she couldn’t possibly be constipated since she was breastfed, she was gaining weight, so stop worrying…

 

Last week when we visited the pediatrician I told him she’s still miserably unhappy from gas most of the time. The doctor told me I should continue my (largely unsuccessful) attempts at getting her to suck on a peppermint stick and that if things got really ugly and she didn’t have a bowel movement for several days I could try a suppository (just what I’ve always dreamed of administering to my offspring!).

 

Current day:

 

We took a family vacation to Colorado this week and on day three Dos was still without any solid output. Her belly was bloated like a bagpipe and she was so unhappy she cried almost non-stop.

 

We decided it was time for the suppository.

 

A trip to the grocery store, the selection of said suppository. Back to the condo, trimming the fingernails, a thorough hand washing, and viola, insertion complete. Time: 7 p.m.

 

Dos woke up at 11:30 p.m., cheeks flushed scarlet, groaning, moaning, and crying in a raspy little voice. I checked the suppository package and read it should be effective within 15 – 60 minutes! Ours had been in her for four-and-a-half-hours!

 

Panic!

 

Lizard got her legs pumping and I called the after-hours pediatrician, left a message with the answering service and then began to wait for the return call, wondering if we’d actually poisoned our child from the bottom up!

 

Daddy got a few toots out of our little bag pipe. I paced, waiting for the phone to ring.

 

Then, I heard a clap of thunder.

 

It rocked the entire house.

 

It came from my baby’s behind as the pent-up excrement exploded everywhere.

 

“Way to go, baby!” my husband yelled. He’s terribly supportive, even in the smelliest of circumstances.

 

He got cleaned up, she got cleaned up. When we opened that glorious diaper we discovered the suppository, in the exact same shape that it had gone in, and realized that it had actually acted as a plug!

 

Apparently she doesn’t generate the body heat needed to melt it. Good to know, a mostly useless fact that may save her life one day… who knows?

 

And that is the story of Dos and the Thunder Poop. Do you have a gross story that will embarrass your children later? I’d love to hear it!

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