October really is the month of horror. The spooky season is upon us, and apparently, I’m living in my very own mommy horror story.
Baby girl has been struggling to poop, which I’ve learned is apparently pretty normal for newborns because they’re still figuring out how their little bodies work. Imagine being a tiny human who has just entered the world and already has to learn how to use the bathroom. Honestly, relatable.
Well, she finally pooped. And when I say she pooped, I mean she had the biggest poop of her entire little life. A real milestone. A moment worth celebrating. Except, naturally, motherhood decided that one poop-related victory was enough and immediately had to throw a plot twist at me.
Her next, smaller poop had blood in it.
BLOOD.
And now I’m looking at every diaper, wondering if there was blood in the previous ones and I just didn’t notice because I wasn’t feeling great myself. Nothing says happy October quite like becoming a full-time diaper detective.
Meanwhile, I had taken DayQuil because I was feeling under the weather. From what I understood, it was okay to take while breastfeeding, and we’re actually doing pretty well with breastfeeding these days. We’re kind of exclusively breastfeeding now, which is exciting! Yay for us!
But also, WHAT THE HELL.
Now, I did wonder whether the DayQuil had something to do with what was happening with her poop because the timing had me side-eyeing that little bottle of medicine like it personally betrayed me. However, I called the 24-hour doctor line, and they told me the DayQuil and the poop issues were unrelated. So, apparently, those are two separate problems, and I can stop trying to connect the dots on that particular mystery.
Unfortunately, that doesn’t make the situation any less stressful.
Day one: blood in the poop.
Day two: the most acidic-smelling poop I have ever encountered in my entire life. I swear, it smells SO BAD. And now every time she farts or seems to need to go to the bathroom, she screams like she’s being personally victimized by her own digestive system.
My poor baby.
And me? I’m over here trying not to spiral while mentally replaying every single thing I’ve eaten, taken, touched, or breathed near this child. Welcome to motherhood, where your hobbies apparently include Googling poop, inspecting diapers, and wondering whether you accidentally did something wrong.
I called the 24-hour doctor line, and they said we didn’t need to rush to the ER right now. We also have an appointment scheduled to see her doctor because I absolutely want to get to the bottom of what’s going on.
I’m trying to remind myself that babies have all kinds of weird little things happen while their bodies figure out how to function. But knowing that something can be common doesn’t magically make it less terrifying when it’s happening to your own baby.
Especially when you’re a first-time mom and every new experience feels like an exam you didn’t study for.
So that’s where we are right now. Waiting for the doctor’s appointment, watching her diapers like a hawk, and hoping my sweet girl feels better soon.
I wanted a spooky October. I wanted Halloween movies, cozy blankets, hot cocoa, and chilly weather.
I did NOT ask for a horror movie in which the main character is a newborn, the villain is her digestive system, and the jump scares are happening inside her diapers.
Motherhood, you are doing entirely too much.
And it’s only October.
