I was reading my sister-in-law's blog the other day. She had experienced a miracle of her
own. Perry and I were thrilled for them, as they deserve all the good things that come to them. Da Momma at
Motherhood Is Not For Wimps had been experiencing some pretty awesome things in her life, too. Little did I know that I was next in line to have that touch of divinity in my life. Now before I tell you about my miracle, I need to set the stage. Being Election Day, there is no school. Four kids home. It's pretty much going to be a rainy day all day. Perry is going out of town this afternoon, so he has to vote in the morning. I went with him, and we took turns going in and sitting in the van with the kids. Since he went in late, and is leaving early, coming home to help me really isn't an option (I know, you'd come if I really needed you, but I'd feel so overwhelming guilty, Honey). I had had some flu-like thing over the weekend and had spent yesterday lying on the living room floor, so queasy I almost thought I was pregnant again. Today, however, all I had was a sore throat. So, the scene is now set. Three bored kids (Michaela insists she wasn't bored), stuck in the house, and a mom that, although feeling better, is having that getting better energy drain thing going on. It was at this moment in my life that God blessed me. And He blessed me-
with poo.
Yes, poo. And I was happy with the poo. Now that I've lost any reader that doesn't know me, or isn't a mommy, let me explain. This wasn't my poo. Oh no, I'm not into spilling
every secret that happens to me. This blog exists more for the future. Like when my kids' friends are googling their names, Anneliese will forever be linked to poo. Anneliese is weaning herself from nursing and eating more and more solids. However, she really hasn't started to up her liquid intake all that much. Lately, you can tell when she's filling a diaper. 99% of the time, we giggle at her little face, all focused on the task at hand. This time, however, was that dreaded 1% of the time. Poor little Anneliese was having a hard time at this one. She was crying and moving all over the place. She didn't want to be held, couldn't be distracted, anything. It was heartbreaking to me. When I went to her, I could smell what was bothering her. By this time, 15 minutes had passed and she was exhausted, so her crying had stopped. I went to change her diaper, and it looked like she was giving birth. The poo was crowning, but it wasn't going anywhere. I put her diaper back on and nursed her, feeling like that might be enough pain relief and relaxation that she could finish the job. Nope. I called a friend of mine who has 4 kids, thinking the more kids, the greater the likelihood of a mutual experience. She hadn't, but luckily her friend with 5 kids was over and she said that she had used a Q-tip dipped in Vaseline to lube up the area a few times and that had always worked. I had both of those things in the house (yay! no going to Wal-Mart in the rain!). Nada. About 15 minutes later, I gave her a triple dose. Nada. Michaela came over and suggested we pray. She prayed for us. I tried to gently scoop some out with the Q-tip, hoping to get rid of the stuck point. I succeeded in letting it slide back in. Relieved of the obvious pain, Anneliese quieted down and I nursed her again. She slept for about 30 minutes. I'm trying to look up on the internet anything else I can do, short of taking her to the doctor (that phone call would grant us instant name recogition for the next 16 and a half years of Anneliese's pediatrician-going life). After her nap, she went right back into the crying and crouching again. I started looking up things in my parenting books, and they give the Vaseline thing and to call the doctor before giving an enema. Before I call the doctor, I picked her up around her middle, hoping to give some help through pressure. It worked. I am now the proud grandma to a Snickers bar. That poor kid! She was up and dancing and singing minutes after I changed her diaper, so her little tushy doesn't seem to have any long-lasting soreness going on. I proudly announced to her siblings that we had a successful poo, and Michaela started telling me that this was a miracle. And although most miracles are small, and not very easy to notice when they're happening, God knows how to give us exactly what we need. I would start thinking of a way to need a new car, but I would probably end up with a couple of miracles bringing me to my living room floor again with a new 15 passenger van sitting in the driveway. No thanks, I like my poo. And I am very thankful for it.
