Anyone whose had a baby knows that you literally become obsessed with poo! Baby poo is crazy, it starts off black then turns yellow, green, pretty much any colour in between.
Two weeks into Neve being home and we had already had our first poo drama. My poor babba went from being a normal newborn explosive pooper to just passing hard rabbit droppings in a matter of days- it was time to consult Dr Google.
According to Dr Google we must give our baby cool boiled water after a feed and this would fix all constipation problems. Hooray, we thought, an easy fix! Cool boiled water! Simple right? Not so much.. it turns out that after drinking warm delicious milk a baby doesn’t much fancy cool boiled water. So, after finally getting Neve to swallow the smallest of sips (the rest got spat in my face) we eagerly awaited the poo that Doctor Google had promised would come…
The next day, still no poo! Nada! Cue stroppy baby and time to consult Doctor Google again. Aha! I exclaimed to Danny, I had found the answer to our problems- we must bicycle her legs!!
An hour of bicycling her legs later whilst singing I want to ride my bicycle and slowly going insane; still no poo… it had been a few days and Neve was rapidly going from stroppy baby to screaming banshee (and it wasn’t just my singing)!
Doctor Google clearly wasn’t cutting it, it was time for the next step! Now every parent has a hierarchy to consult before actually seeking proper medical advice. We wouldn’t want the real life doctors to judge us for being hypochondriacs after all. Doctor Google is at the bottom of our hierarchy (actually let’s be honest, Danny’s at the bottom ‘do what you think’ offers absolutely no reassurance at all!!) and when Doctor Google fails, its time to ring the Mumma!
So Mumma comes round in a jiffy (hero that she is) gives Neve lots of cuddles, calms her down then tells us that we probably should go see an actual doctor and seek real medical advice (not so heroic, I was secretly hoping she’d come round, play the fiddle or something and rainbow coloured poo that smelt like flowers would dance out of my daughters arse)…
Three hours later and we’re sat in the out of hours waiting for our appointment. One problem: the car journey had sent Neve to sleep! Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I wanted my baby to be crying or in pain, but I was about to go into the doctors, explain to them that I had taken one of their precious appointments because my daughter was so constipated she was severely distressed, and there was Neve sleeping like an angel. And that’s exactly how she stayed, through the WHOLE appointment. The doctor clearly thought I was the fussiest mum in the world, but after a while of me trying to reassure her that there was an actual problem she sent us on our merry way with a prescription for medication to help!
After leaving the doctors we stopped off at the chemist, picked up the medication we thought would so easily solve our problems and headed home. Once we’d arrived, I opened the medication expecting to find some powder I’d perhaps have to mix into her milk or maybe a syringe with some liquid laxatives… but no… what I actually found was 12 tablets with a jelly like consistency shaped like torpedos… what the?! Surely we’d been given the wrong medication! How was a newborn supposed to swallow these?! Once I started to read the instructions, realisation dawned on me- these tablets were NOT for Neve’s mouth…So after not much debate about who was going to have to stick the tablets where the sun doesn’t shine (Danny flat out refused) we were set! It was like a military operation:
- lay Neve on side on changing mat.
- Danny: lift Neve’s legs up to her knees
- Jenna: somehow insert this slippery torpedo into tiny arsehole