Up All Night

This will completely shock you. Especially if you know of our children. But Harrison. Appears to have reflux. And is painfully gassy. I know… This can only be described as shocking. Because no baby has reflux these days … Or gas. Except every baby. And especially every baby under my roof. 

Harrison did not poop enough in the hospital. Which led to a distended belly on more than a few occasions and 4 ultrasounds of his bowels. He also spit a considerable amount in the hospital. Even the docs seemed impressed. And if you can impress people with anything, you want it to be your ability to regurgitate. Because they’ll think you’re the spit. And until they got all of his ins and outs under control, it was a bit concerning. Partially because of the inability for him to gain weight and partially because of the appearance of it all. Sometimes his spit-up {aka monster vomit} was green and frothy. Others, neon yellow and bile-y. For me, it seemed like if it looked that gross, it had to hurt like a beast. But *fun fact* I learned that babies do not produce acid until very close to or past their due dates. Did you know that? I didn’t. Just another little NICU nugget. 

So, since his homecoming, Harrison’s consistently done some farting and some gagging. But the real spitting, well that party is just getting started {somebody want to call Pink?!}. And so, the last three nights when we’ve laid him down only after holding him upright for 20 minutes post-feeds, a series of unfortunate events has transpired. And they go something like this…

1. Grunting. 

2. Congestion. 

3. Gagging.

4. Farting. 

5. Fussing. 

6. Rhino snuffing. 

7. Spitting. 

8. Crying. 

9. Repeat. 

It. Is not good. And so, we are suckers {okay. I’m the sucker. And Adam supports me} and we hold him. To keep him content. And to keep his calories in him. So that he continues to grow. Up and out of reflux. Hopefully. 

But this cannot keep on keepin on. Because I am a rare jewel when sleep disappears. And because it will be awkward when he’s 17 and has to be held upright, on my lap. Because you know what “they” say, once you start a habit, kids never outgrow it. Just joshin’… But for other reasons, we must abort this mission. 

We paid a visit to our ped to check out the congestion. Because of the three other men in our house having dabbled in the sniffles and snot as of late, we first wanted to confirm that H was not under the weather. And that there were not actually rhinos inside of him. And once the sniffles and rhinos were ruled out, we talked reflux. And gas. And lack of poo. And sleep issue when those forces collide. 

We talked about our options. Sticking with the MSPI diet {which I am doing}. Meds. Changing formulas. And then, I asked about chiropractic care. Because so many people have recommended it to me. So I asked for her honest opinion. 

I know. I might have just lost some of

you… Because I feel like chiropractic care can be polarizing. People either swear by it. Or think it’s batshit crazy. I don’t know a whole lot of in between. Having friends who are chiropractors and friends who are pediatricians, and knowing people who subscribe to an either/or philosophy of mainstream medicine vs. holistic health, I half expected my ped to poo poo it. 

The doc told us that all of the things we discussed are options. Some might work. Some might not. But none of them, the diet, the adjustments, the meds, or the formula will hurt in the long run. And that we can always try things… One by one. And because I trust that she’ll always tell it like it is, I felt that was a fair answer. 

Last night. I actually showered and blow dried my hair, a rarity to have accomplished both before bed in between feeds and pumps. By morning, if I hadn’t had a crystal clear recollection of the nights’ events, I may have thought I had spent the night at a baby frat party. I had been the subject of incessant fart-ons and vomits. I had alimentum crusted in my hair, breast milk spit all over my shirt and pants and as a result, smelled of a nice melange of sour milk and rotten potatoes. Basically just daring the hubs to resist me. 

Now if you are not a believer in chiropractic care, let me tell you, I’ve never received chiropractic care. Look at my pregnancies… medical intervention has driven them. And I love a good dose of Nyquil when the situation calls for it. And I think I used to drink purple Dimetapp for breakfast as a kid {c’mon, it was delicious}. And I personally, have never been adjusted. But because I have plenty of smart, healthy friends who swear by regular adjustments, and hearing of the rigors of chiropractic school from a basically-family member who just completed it, I do find the idea of homeopathic remedies intriguing.