Poopageddon

Two nights ago was Poopageddon. I kid you not, it was the most poop I have ever seen. If you have the stomach for a truly remarkable poop tale, then read on. If you're squeamish or think poop conversations are inappropriate, best to stop here.

I got up to nurse Ruthie at 3AM, when she cried out that she was ready. While we nursed, I noticed that she had the most gas I have ever heard her have. I went into the office that day, so she had a bottle with Grandma and she's always gassy after a bottle. But this was man-like gas. I'm talking 50 year old, beer-drinking, fried-onion-ring-eating man gas. I was truly amazed at the sounds coming out of her.

Then I began to hear juicy toots (you were warned) and knew she was up to some serious business. So even after we were finished nursing, and even though it was the middle of the night and I wanted to go back to bed, I waited and waited, letting her get all her work done. At around 3:30, I thought it was safe, so I got up and began to change her.

When I took her diaper off, you would not believe the amount of poop in there. It was incredible. So I'm wiping and wiping and then all of a sudden, more poop is coming. I grab more wipes and the next diaper, and I'm wiping and wiping. Still more poop. Now it's spilling out of her diaper and onto the changing table pad. It's soaking through her nightgown and the burp cloth we keep on the changing pad. So I'm wiping and wiping.

And that's when it happened. Just as I'm reaching for yet another wipe, she coughs. This tiny little cough sends the poopie flying - and it spats against my arm in a hot, wet mess, just as I'm reaching for the wipe. It must have traveled a foot and a half, at least. I'm so shocked I actually laugh at loud. Projectile poopies - amazing. It gets all over the changing table, dribbles down the side of the drawers and even onto the carpet.

This of course merits me turning on all the nights, something I never do during a night time feeding. Now I'm fully awake, Ruthie is fully awake and we're both getting a complete costume change (which required me putting both our clothes in the shower). I'm finally able to get a diaper on her and around 4AM, I put her back into bed, wide awake from all the activity.

I crawl back into the bed, whisper something to Ian about a poop explosion, and try to go to sleep. All the while, I'm smelling poop and I can't figure out if it's just lingering in my nose or if, worse, it's in my hair or somewhere else on me that I didn't notice.

The next morning, I set to spraying and scrubbing the carpet to remove the evidence. I didn't have the heart to do a thorough cleaning in the middle of the night.

And Ruthie? As you can see in this photo taken the next morning, she survived the Poopageddon just fine.

In fact, she's looking rather innocent here, don't you think?