this too has passed

The other day, someone asked me about Duke's reflux.  It almost caught me off guard.

Yes, off guard.

I never could've imagined that such a question would seem so out of the blue to me.  It was where I was living for so long - covered in spit up, wet clothes, and sporting an adult sized towel over my body at all times.  As if being a new mom in the midst of my child's first year wasn't enough of a reality check, I had this burden I carried for him and, let's be honest, for me.  Spit up changed our schedules, sleep, playtime, social situations, everything.

 (Just a few of the moments I happened to capture along the way.  And these are pretty mild.)

For a walk down memory lane, feel free to check out any of these posts:
spits and fits
burp rags schmurp rags
spits and fits, mom's turn

It was terrible.  Some said, "Oh, you'll laugh about this later!"  Well, it's later and I'm not laughing.  I don't think I ever will.  It really was bad and if anything, I look back and feel so terrible that Duke had to deal with that for so long.  Good thing he won't remember any of it.

At one point, it seemed like we were passing all the spit up milestones that people were telling me about in an effort to be helpful.

"Well, 4 months is usually the peak of spit up.  I bet he'll be done after that."

"I bet once he starts rice cereal he'll stop spitting up."

"I bet once he starts baby food he'll stop spitting up."

"Once he turns 6 months, I bet he'll be done spitting up."

Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong.  Duke was still spitting up.  Breastmilk, squash, green beans, orange banana medley ... yes, it was all coming out of his mouth.

Reactions were the worst. 

"Oh my gosh, does he do this all the time?"

"Whoa!  That is crazy!!" 

"Oh, oh, oh!  It's everywhere!  I need a burp rag!" 

Or some people would just laugh. 

Now, none of these people intended to be hateful, but it still hurt.  It magnified the whole situation and made me feel even more isolated.

On the other hand, there were so many people who were incredibly encouraging.  Thanks, friends, for telling me it would be over, for calling me a "soldier," and for making me feel like I was doing a good job.  I really do appreciate it.

It wasn't until Duke was 8-9 months that he really was done.  After that point, there was an occasional moment that I saw a little dribble of spit up on his chin, but it was occasional.  And now, with Duke a week away from turning one, I haven't seen a trace of spit up for probably about 2 months now.  I know.  I'm amazed.

I'm amazed when the laundry basket isn't full of burp rags.  I'm amazed when I don't wipe spit up off the couch.  I'm amazed when I roll around with Duke on the floor without getting drenched.  I'm amazed when I feed Duke and immediately set him down on the floor to play.  It's so amazing that it's just gone.

Way to go, Duke.  You were a trooper.

We have crossed that bridge and we have conquered.  We are on the other side of "this too shall pass."  This too has passed.

spits and fits, mom's turn

(Duke's first Easter ... complete with spit up on mom's sleeve.)

I don't really have a problem being honest because I've realized that in doing so, people come out and say, "Hey, me too!"  So, here we go.

This past Thursday and Sunday were some of the worst.  Not as bad as those baby blues days, but pretty close.

Leading up to Thursday was a lovely introduction to teething.  Duke has been teething for awhile, but this was the beginning of legit teething.  The kind of teething where babies just scream and cry.  It's rough ... for the kid and the parent.  Along with this, Duke had been spitting up larger amounts than normal.  Blame it on teething, starting baby food, hitting a peak of spitting up ... whatever.  I can't stay clean and Duke can't stay clean.

By the end of the night, I was fed up.  I threw a fit.

The feeling of never-ending dirtiness that I've felt for the past almost 6 months spiraled into many other things that night.  I sat in my living room staring at piles of unfolded laundry on my couch, dust on every surface, burp rags and towels scattered everywhere, and dirty floors.  Remind me ... why do I load and unload the dishes only to do the same thing the next day?  Why do I do laundry every week even though the amount of laundry will still remain the same each week?  Why do I sit on my couch with Duke when it ends up getting covered in spit up?  Why have I never seen any other baby spit up as much as Duke?  Why is there no other mom that can go through this with me?

Feeling like there was no escape from being unclean every day of my life, I threw some stuff.  (No breakables ... just pillows, dirty towels, etc.  I may be crazy, but I am safe.)  I dumped out Duke's diaper bag on the floor.  And I probably did a few other things that were childish of me.  I'm not proud of it, but it happened.  I thought, why not add to the mess?  My house, my child, and myself will never be clean.

Colt was gone that night and I needed a break, so I put Duke in the car and we drove to Chick-fil-a.  A fruit/chicken salad and coke didn't fix my problems but they certainly didn't make them worse.  Duke fell asleep and I sat in the parking lot in my car eating.  It was enough time for me to reason with myself and talk to God.  Then we headed back home.

On Sunday, I was wearing a new skirt and Duke was wearing a new blazer.  The skirt was $8.98 from Target and Duke's blazer was a gift from Sara.  It's not that I was concerned about those things getting ruined.  Spit up doesn't ruin clothes.  But it takes time to get up and get you and your kid ready for the day.  Duke spewed out a big one in the nursing room at church along with a few other ones in the sanctuary while I was talking to friends.  I left church with a top and skirt covered in it.  

Colt and I were in separate cars that morning, so I went straight to Lake Hefner.  I parked and then I cried.  I cried really, really hard.  Harder than I've cried in a long time.  I told Colt the saddest part about it all to me is that sometimes I feel like I'm missing out on part of Duke's baby life.  Because of all of this, we don't get to cuddle on the couch or roll around on the floor.  Every moment of his life is trapped by a big towel and the worry that one of us is about to be drenched at any second.  I went home, threw my Easter clothes across the room, and got in bed.  Thankfully, Colt's family came over for Easter and brought us lunch.  It was a huge relief having lunch taken care of and having the company of his family.  

Spit up is this big of a problem?  Yes.  And it seems silly to most people, but only because it hasn't happened to them.  This kind of spitting up affects so many parts of our lives and every day schedule.  Duke eats 6 times a day, instead of 5 like the average 5-6 month old, because he wasn't gaining well ... because he spits up after each feeding.  Because Duke eats 6 times a day, we go to bed later than we would have to if he only ate 5 times.  Because he spits up so much, we use towels every day and go through more outfits than a typical baby.  This makes for a lot of laundry.  You'll read about reflux in babies and see, "Is it a medical problem or just a laundry problem?"  Just a laundry problem.  Yes, Duke has reflux and he's on medication, but it is a laundry problem as well.  And it's exhausting.  Because of the amount of spit up, I don't like being out in public places during or right after a feeding.  It's not because I'm embarrassed, but because most people's reactions are annoying and I don't want to have to clean it all up.  Because of his reflux, he has to stay upright or elevated for at least an hour after feeding.  This means he is either in his bouncer, which he sometimes hates these days, or in my arms.  And so forth and so on ...

(Side note:  My feelings and frustrations in all of this are not directed at Duke, to be clear.  In my eyes, we're on the same team ... trying to figure this out together.  I'm his advocate and I want this to be better for the both of us.)

Days like this come and go for all moms, I think.  Days where we question why we do anything we do.  Days where "Everything is meaningless" from Ecclesiastes isn't very encouraging.  This can't be meaningless.  This has to be for something.  This has to be worth something.

In the midst of this issue, I have reminded myself of many other medical issues that we could be dealing with.  My baby doesn't have a heart problem, his muscles and bones are developing correctly, he can see, he can hear, etc.  I know those are much bigger rocks and I'm grateful for our healthy boy.  However, sometimes I'm weak and being grateful isn't enough.  Sometimes I just have to cry, sulk, and let it get me down.  God always brings me back around, reminding me that this is only for a season and that I have so many other wonderful things in my life.

I'm not asking for apologies or pity or advice.  (I'm not against advice but honestly, I've probably done everything possible to lessen the spit up.)  I'm just venting.  It helps sometimes to get it all out there ... even if it means telling you I threw things.  I hope we can still be friends.

Well, folks, that's all from me today.  If you ever need a boost, just re-read this post and know that there is always someone out there that is crazier and more emotional than you.  Happy Tuesday!

burp rags schmurp rags

Some babies spit a lot, some babies spit a little, and some babies don't really spit.

Well, if you're on the 'a lot' side of things, your life is very different from the folks around you.

1.  If you happen to care, you wait to put on your nice clothes until the second before you walk out the door.  But even then, there is no guarantee you will remain clean.  Once you realize you will be covered in spit up regardless, you start to get used to smelling like sour milk all the time.  Cute, huh?

2.  Burp rags schmurp rags.  We're talking adult sized towels, people.  It gives you full coverage and extra places to wipe the spit up.

3.  "Dreamfeeds" are a joke.  Sure, you can do a dreamfeed at the time that a dreamfeed happens, but it won't really be a dreamfeed.  Your baby will have to wake up because your baby will have to spit up.  In order to make sure all burps and spit ups are out, we have to stay up with Duke for around an hour after he's done eating.  In the beginning weeks when you're getting up in the night to feed, this means you are up a LOT longer than the average ole Joe.  A 4:00 a.m. feeding is not over at 4:30.  It's probably over somewhere between 5:15-5:30.  Party.  Dreamfeeds are wonderful for babies that aren't spitters.  Feeding your baby while they stay asleep (or mostly asleep) and putting them back down really did seem like ... a dream.  And it was.  I tried it once and, boy, did I pay for it.  I got back in my bed feeling accomplished as a mother, only to wake up 30 minutes later to a screaming, choking baby covered in spit up.

4.  There is just more time involved in general with a baby that spits up a lot.  You have to spend time burping.  You have to keep them upright for quite awhile after they eat.  And even when the 'upright' time is done, they still may spit up right up until the time you lay them down again to nap.  And hey, when they wake up from that nap, they might have saved a little for you.  Spending time with Duke and really watching his body language is what makes the whole process more successful.

5.  Feeding out in public isn't as easy.  You're already worried about keeping yourself covered, but in addition to that, you have a baby that can make a very big mess very quickly.  It's a race against the clock for me.  Can I get him out from under the Hooter Hider and up onto my shoulder with a burp rag before it all comes out onto this really cute couch and beautiful wood floors?

Every spit up is worth it though.  I'd do it forever for him.  Well, when he's 18 I'd rather not, but you get my point.  I know that 'this too shall pass,' but boy does it seem unending.  I will say that it has gotten better.  It may have to do with being on Prevacid (which he's taking for the pain of reflux, not the volume of spit up) and it may have to do with getting older ... or both.

So, if any of you are experiencing the same things, you are not alone!

spits and fits

Duke has always been a big spitter.  It's funny, though, because usually when we tell people, they look at us like Oh, aren't you sweet; you think your baby spits up a lot when actually he spits up like every other baby.  Mmm, nope.  He's a crazy spitter.  That's just all there is to it.

He'd always been a happy spitter, but this changed at week 11.  I could tell something was different.  Not only was it frequently projectile, but he started acting uncomfortable and, eventually, in pain when he was spitting up.  One night I had just had enough.  I started crying and said out loud to myself and Duke (which happens a lot), "This is not normal.  I am calling the doctor tomorrow."  There's just something deep down in that mommy gut that tells you when something is not okay.  When you feel it, trust it!

I was a little nervous about calling since I would sound like a typical first time mom who thinks everything is a big deal, but I did it anyway.  The nurse was very sweet and it ended up that we needed to see our doctor about this.  She said he had reflux and prescribed Zantac.  Things were better the first 2 days and then they actually got worse.

What was he doing exactly?  After he ate, he would cry ... like the crazy, shrill, high-pitched cries you really don't hear too often unless something is really wrong.  He was also as stiff as a board and arching his back.  I knew these things weren't okay.  After 6 days of Zantac, I called the nurse again and told her everything.

(Side note:  It also turned out that Duke hadn't, and still hasn't, had a dirty diaper in several days.  I thought the Zantac might be related but she assured me that it probably wasn't and that a lot of babies go through a phase where they just don't poop.  She also said that when they do decide to finally do it, it'd be a big one.  Something we can look forward to.)

The nurse spoke with our doctor and she decided we needed to stop the Zantac and switch to Prevacid.  What a difference!  It's been 4 days now and it has worked wonders.  (Let's keep our fingers crossed that it will stay that way!)  We finally have our happy boy back.  It's totally relieved his pain, he doesn't cry for an hour after he eats, and he spits up happily like he used to.  The volume of spit up has basically remained the same, except for a few feedings here and there where it's a bit less than the normal amount.  Of course, the spit up wasn't the problem.  I'll take spit up over pain any day.

Seeing your child like that and not having the power to fix it is rough.  I'm just glad I didn't wait it out and do my typical "I'm his mom so I should be able to handle it" business.

I'm grateful we finally found something that works.  I'm also grateful for intelligent and kind doctors and nurses that really care about what they do.  I've talked to several nurses the past couple of weeks and not one of them was condescending or made me feel silly for my concerns.  That's a good feeling as a new mom.

Onward to happy spitting days!