It has come to my attention, my gentle reader, that an inordinate share of this blog is dedicated to bodily functions. I can only apologize for that. I suspect that for the foreseeable future the trend will very well continue. Should you be so brave (or bored) - read on...
Two days ago Benjamin decided to reduce his pooping frequency from 7-8 times per day to about two. In itself - not a tragedy or even cause for alarm. Unless you are us. Around 1pm we noticed that the poop/pee/feed white board indicated no poop for Ben since 4am. In the mean time his brother, much on the same diet, continued to supply fertilizer per spec. When none arrived at the 4pm feeding either, nerves frayed, tempers flared, books started to be read and I placed a call to the duty nurse at our pediatrician's office. That the nurse had heard about eighteen million calls just like this one was obvious. I was treated to a collection of soothing phrases about "adjusting to this world", "changing their schedule", and "just having a day". But it is my baby, darn it! No poop, extra fussiness - how could she ignore this?! I could smell being "handled" a mile away and appreciated it none at all. I asked politely at how many non-pooping hours exactly should I start to worry. This indeed puzzled the nurse and prompted a brief consultation with our physician. The result, minus some more 'handling', was "since there are no real other symptoms, calls us tomorrow at 8am if no poop arrives." Trusting in authority, we waited.
Awaiting the 7pm feeding we soothed Benjamin who was clearly not feeling great, but not screaming either. Alla read Baby 411 - an excellent book, nice and concise, written clearly for a neurotic parent. Just as Alla read out loud that indeed Ben was not suffering from constipation (different symptoms), his diaper revealed a regular dose on poop! The cries of jubilation and celebratory dances commenced. I truly cannot recall a single time when my parents, wife, and I were so excited by the site of excrement.
As visibly more comfortable Ben was swaddled and put down to nap, I did, however, remark to myself that the amount produced could not possibly account for a sixteen-hour interruption in service. About the same time Alla read to us from Baby 411 that we should expect "the mother-load". Shortly after it arrived, in all it's multi-diaper-filling glory. And made us happy.
At this point the boys continue to function correctly, and my expectation of "normal" continues to be adjusted. I am sure that when 8am rolled around and no call came from us, the nurses had a quite chuckle at yet another overly neurotic parent, or perhaps simply forgot about us altogether. Correctly so.
Another lesson learned in subsequent hours was not to interrupt a baby who is pooping or has done so recently. The rule is to let the baby alone for good 30-40 minutes and let them continue the process in peace, breaks and all. An hour is safer still. Anyone changing a baby ahead of specified time is likely to end up very surprised by the caliber, range, cunning timing, and shear power of baby artillery. I can only say that the late night gravity demonstration pales in comparison. At the time of writing of this entry three data points have been gathered, making the rule "three for three". It is safe to say that "let the pooping baby lie" rule can now be considered 'golden'. Well, yellow-greenish, to be precise.
In rare non-poop related news: yesterday the boys had another "first" - first trip into the outdoors (not counting the cars). They spent excellent 30 minutes in the bassinet, sleeping in our back yard. Today the time was extended to 60 minutes, while Alla caught up on her sleep, while my parents and I actually had a glass of wine in the warm late afternoon sun. For a few dozen minutes life, poop and all, was perfect.
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