All Aboard the Potty Train

Shrike's been hearing all about Peeper's potty adventures, but hasn't gotten to witness much, because she's been at work every day since we started with the panties. This evening, though, she finally got to take a few trips on the potty train.

(We literally "chugga-chugga" and "wooo-wooo" to get her into the bathroom. She loves it.)

And, especially for Mommy, there was even a poop! That went directly into the potty!

Getting to the Bottom of Things

Those who are paying close attention may remember that, at Peeper's twelve-month checkup, the doctor gave me the green light to add more dairy to our diets and see how it went.

So, I have.

In a big, cheesey, chocolatey way.

I was still avoiding actual straight-up cow's milk - using soy in my coffee, for example - but pretty much eating anything else that I wanted, on the theory that cheese is pretty processed and modified, and there's not that much milk actually in things. Like milk chocolate.

The results were sort of inconclusive.

We've had no bloody poopy, or evidence of intestinal distress or anything like that, but everytime she pooped, her little booty (and its neighboring parts) was turning bright red.

A red that Shrike described thusly: She could lead Santa's sleigh with her crotch.

(That wife of mine does have a way with words, doesn't she?)

When we were dairy-free, she would occassionally get red for a day or so, but now it was happening all the time.

It was definitely poop-related, because if she skipped a day she'd start to clear up, and as soon as she pooped, the next time we changed her, she'd be red again.

Both my logical and my guilty minds (in rare agreement) said that it was the dairy, but my selfish, cheese- and chocolate-loving mind was in denial.

I'd finally decided that, after the holidays, once we were home from Texas, I would go dairy-free again for a while, and see if that made a difference.

But, instead, well, it was the damnedest thing.

After a day or so in Texas, I noticed that she was looking less red. And less and less and less, and by the time we'd been there a few days, her little parts were a beautiful, healthy, normal pink-baby-booty (etc) color - and stayed that way.

So, I started wracking my brain to think of what she and/or I might be consuming at home that we weren't having while we were in Texas.

We were both having lots of dairy, so I knew that wasn't it.

The first thing that came to mind was coffee, or the soy milk that I was putting in it.

Now, typically, I drink three different sorts of coffee - at home, I have regular-ass decaff with chocolate soy milk, at Starbucks it's decaff espresso with sugar-free syrups and soy milk, and at Sheetz (our favoriate convenience store), it's a soy latte with espresso syrup and sugar-free flavor syrups.

The only common denominator there, really, is the soy milk, since sometimes there's not even real coffee in it.

Also, I had a few similar fake-coffees (with coffee-flavored syrup in skim milk) at the Anonyparents' house, and it didn't affect her.

With that in the back of my mind, I went ahead and ordered my usual at Starbucks on the way to the airport Sunday, and then my other usual at Sheetz on the way home from Dr. Tara's on Monday.

After I got home, I thought of one other thing I wasn't having in Texas - sugar-free Koolaid. I wouldn't think that would cause this but on the other hand, who knows what crazy chemicals are in it, so I suppose anything is possible.

In addition to my coffee-with-soy, I also started drinking Koolaid as soon as I got home, and had several glasses over the next couple of days.

By Tuesday, she was bright red.

Which confirmed that she'd not experienced some sort of spontaneous healing that just happened to coincide with our trip.

So, I decided to cut out the coffee, soy and Koolaid and see what happened.

By Wednesday she was looking better, so I decided to try some coffee with cow's milk. I've had that Wednesday evening, Thursday morning, Thursday evening and this evening.

As of the last diaper change, early this evening, she's looking great.

Since I've already got a pitcher all made up, and since it's the less likely of the two suspects, I'm testing the Koolaid first. I've drunk several glasses today, starting after the first diaper change after today's poop.

(I waited until then to confirm that the coffee I'd had earlier was not going to affect her.)

I'm anxiously awaiting the next poop to see what happens.

If we go a couple of days (actually, a couple of poops) with no reaction, I'll have some soy milk and see if that does it.

I hope to have this mystery solved before her fifteen-month checkup on the 27th.

I Stand Corrected(Warning: Graphic Image)

Or...I could be sitting right there, not two feet away, completely oblivious to the fact that the diaper she's taking off is poopy.

Okey, no more dipey-butt for you, kiddo. From now on, you're in pants or a onesie at all times.

Daily Peep: Poor Baby

For those of you not following along on Twitter, it seems that Peeper has a cold.


It shouldn't surprise us, really, because she's seemed a little "off" all week.

Actually, Shrike noticed it first, and mentioned it on Monday. She had pooped three times that day, which is very unusual for her (it's usually more like once every two or three days), and Shrike said that she just didn't seem quite herself, all around.

There's nothing (other than the poop frequency, which has continued all week) that we could really put a finger on, she's just seemed a little fussier and grumpier than usual.

She's also not been overly interested in solid food, other than Cheerios.

I was chalking that up to the new and excitingness of the Cheerios, and the fussiness to always wanting to be "walking" somewhere these days, so less willing to sit and play, or even to sit and cuddle (unless she's nursing and/or sleeping).

Then she starting to sound a bit congested over the past fourty-eight hours or so, and this morning, she woke up around six o'clock, crying.

She very rarely wakes up crying in the middle of the night. (6 am is "the middle of the night" for us.) She stirs and roots and nurses back to sleep, but almost never gets awake and cries.

I got up and brought her to the "goody chair" in front of the computer and she went right back to sleep, but was up again an hour later.

This time, she had a dirty diaper, and also felt hot. We took her temperature and it was a bit over 99 F under her arm.

I left a voicemail for her doctor's office, hoping they could see her today, but when the nurse called back she said they were all booked up, and just asked me a bunch of questions.

She said that it sounds like she's picked up a "bug that's going around," and what they've been seeing with it is about 5 - 7 days of cold symptoms, and some kids have had some vomiting and diarrhea with it as well. (She said that she might just get away with the more frequent poops.)

Basically, the nurse said that as long as she's nursing well not to worry about the solid food (I knew that and wasn't concerned at all; I'd only mentioned it as part of the "she's not herself" thing.), and to give her Tylenol or Motrin for fever, and she's not on the upswing by Monday or Tuesday (or if it gets really bad) to give them a call.

She also said that we could run a humidifier, and put saline drops up her nose then suction it out, and put some rolled-up blankets under the end of her crib mattress to elevate her head while she sleeps.

Or, we could hang out in the bathroom while a hot shower runs, and (try to) put breastmilk up her nose then (try to) suction it and let her sleep in my lap with her head slightly elevated.

She's not done much today other than sleeping and nursing, mostly at the same time.

I figure that has to be a good thing, because she's getting rest, fluids and antibodies.

And I'm not having to chase after her, which is definitely a good thing, because now my throat feels scratchy and I am starting to feel icky.

I am really glad Shrike is going to be off work the next couple of days.

Trial by Cheese

We've decided that, now that Peeper's seven-and-then-some months old, it's time to do some experimenting to see if she's outgrown her dairy sensitivity.

(The pediatrician told us I could try adding it back to my diet at six months, but I wanted to wait a bit longer.)

So, yesterday, we picked up a mac and cheese from our favorite convenience store, and OH MY GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE THIS STUFF IS IN JUST THREE AND A HALF MONTHS NOM NOM CHEESEY YUMMY GOODNESS NOM NOM NOM!!!!

Yeah, oh, so I kind of enjoyed it, is what I'm saying.

Ahem. Point being. . . .

I ate some dairy, and we're keeping an eye on Peep's poops. And her pooper.

So far, so good.

We'd been talking about it for a while, and I couldn't decide the best way to go about it - one big cheesey meal or start adding things back slowly.

I finally decided to go this route, because I am very much an "all or nothing" person, and to "start having a bit of dairy" would be very difficult for me.

Adding back the "hidden" dairy, to have to maybe turn around and eliminate it again would be very hard, too.

So, I figured it would be easier for me to have a special-one-time-only mac and cheese treat, and watch how things go.

If there's no ill effects, then I have another and watch for a couple of days.

Then maybe one thing a day, and continue to watch.

Not sure how that's different, but I got to eat mac and cheese, so it works for me.

Actually, after I bought the mac and cheese, I realized it might not be the best time for a test, because her little booty was already rather red - and that's the canary in the diaper for the dairy problems.

We're not sure what it was red about, but think maybe it was connected to her having about three poops the day before, instead of one every day or two.

But, after a day with Vaseline on it, and even with the mac and cheese, it's all cleared up and her poop looks fine, too.

(A tip for you - when you know you're going to be inspecting baby poop for blood, you might want to feed the kid something other than sweet potatoes, watermelon and spaghetti sauce. Actually, of those, I've only seen sweet potatoes, but I figure the others were a dumb idea, too.)

So, our fingers are crossed, and I'm planning to try something else with dairy tomorrow (or maybe mac and cheese again - I sure have missed it!) and we'll keep a watch on it.

If it starts giving her troubles, I'll stop and we'll try again in a couple of months.

On the other hand, if it seems to be okay once I'm having a bit of dairy each day, we'll give her some directly.

I'm thinking maybe we'll start with yogurt on her rice cakes. I hear that the proteins are pretty modified in it. Then maybe some cheese. If that goes okay, I think we'll be about home free.

(I've read everything from six months to ten months, regarding when it's okay to feed them cheese and yogurt. I think if we've established that she's getting cow's milk protein from me and tolerating it, we're okay to give it a try.)

I considered waiting a bit longer, but Peeper and I are going to Texas next month to visit my family (have I mentioned that?) and I wanted to test things before then because, while of course, we'll do what we gotta do, it would be much more convenient if we weren't needlessly dairy-free while traveling.

(And much yummier, because I would love to make a pilgrimage to my favorite Mexican restaurant while we're there.)

So, don't plan the menu yet, Anonymama. Maybe you'll be able to put cheese on it after all!

Daily Peep: Poop Patrol

Shrike: This smells . . . suspect.

Moments later, from Peeper's room.

Shrike: Oh dear. I wasn't wrong.

Holy Shit

Warning: This post is all about poop. Sorry Mommy.

When Peeper was a wee-tot, she was one of those in-and-out babies, who pooped every time she ate. For months, it was very rare to change a diaper that was only wet, but it was not a big deal, because it was sweet little breast-baby poop, and usually not much of it, since she went so often.

Of course, there were the wild variations in color, and the occassional bit of blood, but we got that all worked out when I went dairy-free.

Then it became a beautiful textbook shade of mustard yellow and over the next few weeks, she started spacing out her poops to once every day or two - or, occassionally, three.

When she did go, it was a doozy, but it wasn't often, and it was still quite inoffensive, so that was fine.

Then she started eating solid foods.

Suddenly, she was back to going several times a day, which was actually a bit of a relief to me, since I know some babies tend to get plugged up when they start solids, and boy was it interesting.

Still your basic runny, breastmilk poop, but now with evidence of her previous meal or two.

This was actually pretty handy, as a way of knowing what she'd managed to get down her throat and not just in her hair.

She had a rather impressive diaper on Wednesday evening, when we were at Pizza Hut for a La Leche League fundraiser.

I had been talking about this whole solid-food-eating thing with LeaderH, whose son is about six weeks older than Peeper.

He's eating lots of purees, but no fingerfoods, so I said, "Do you want to see what happens when a six-month-old eats broccoli?!"

She declined.

(In my defense (I tend to say that alot, don't I?) she and I have had several conversations about the color of our babies' poops.)

As of last night, she'd not pooped since then, and I was starting to get a bit worried, until Shrike reported a "big poop" when she changed her out of her overnight diaper this morning.

I checked it out ("So," Shrike asks, "what's in her future?") and saw that there wasn't that much in there, but it was definitely different from what we've seen before.

Much less running, more gooey, and with very few identifiable bits and pieces in it.

I wondered if that was just a one-shot deal, or something new and long-term.

Now, seven or so hours later?

That "big" poop she had this morning?

HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!!!!

That. Was. Nothing.

Right after Shrike left for work, Peeper nursed and took a nap, and before she'd been asleep long, I realized that she was poopy, but it didn't seem to bother her, so I let her sleep.

When she woke up I changed her. Big poopy, and just like this morning.

Then twice more. Within the next hour or so. Even bigger.

Nope, she's definitely not plugged-up.

In fact, I think that break she'd taken since Thursday may have been a temporary work-stoppage for the purpose of installing the big-girl-poopy-making machinery.

I keep reading on the BLW forum that at first, you'll have essentially breastfed poop with undigested bits of solids - check - but then, as they start actually digesting the food they are eating, it becomes "the consistency of peanut butter" with less solid pieces coming through - aaannnd check!

What we're seeing now might not quite qualify yet, but she's definitely well on her way.

So, yuk yuk and yuk, but on the other hand, I am so proud of her!

Ew.

I think we may need to add a step to the diaper laundering routine soon.

I just picked three very clean bits of carrot (or, possibly, sweet potato) out of the bottom of the washing machine.

Stand Down

Just had another poopie-diaper. Definitely strings in there, not liquid or goo.

No blood. Just banana.

Nevermind.

Now, back to our originally scheduled programming.

My Latest Theory

So, as I was cleaning Peeper up from a banana snack, I had a bit of banana string on my hand (ew ew ew - get it off! get it off! why?) and noticed it looked familiar.

Did some googling, and it seems that when the banana strings come through the poop, they aren't necessarily black.

They can also be brown or green or reddish.

I had been warned about the "OhMyGod worms!" black strings, but didn't know they could be red.

Now I'm thinking maybe that's what we saw this afternoon. Not blood, just banana.

It was definitely stringy-ish. I thought it was kind of clotty bits of blood. Definitely red.

I wish I could remember more clearly what it looked like yesterday, and if the red stuff was more stringy or liquidy-gooey?

I really hope it's just banana.

You know, I should probably add a tag/category for the posts in which I discuss baby poop. In case someone is interested, you know?

Potty Talk? No, we'll save that one for a couple of years from now.

Diaper Doings? Nah.

In honor of my new British friends: Nappy News? Eh, too pretentious.

Peep's Poops?

Aha! I think we have a winner!

The Proof is in the Pooping

Peeper's newest nickname (she has many): Broccoli Butt!

We've officially seen what the British mums on the Baby Led Weaning Forum refer to as "nappy evidence" that Peeper actually did actually swallow a teeeeny bit of broccoli yesterday.

Unfortunately, we've also seen evidence that Ritz crackers do contain dairy, after all.

(Cue Debbie Downer wah-wah-waaahhhh sound effect.)

Sidebar:
Why yes, I do intend to inspect the poopie diapers for a while. This will definitely be my job. Shrike will change the diaper, but has no desire to inspect it. This afternoon, She said, "She's got poop, if you want to come read it." I know it's gross, but it's the only way to know these things. Also, I hear that it will be fascinating as she starts eating a wider variety of solid foods.

Yesterday, Peeper had a diaper that I thought might have the tiniest bit of blood in it, but then I decided that at least one thing that I thought was a streak of blood seemed to actually be a flake of cracker. So, I figured the rest must be as well. I hoped.

Then, I got the following note from Frappa (LadyKay's Kiddo#2 - who, herself, started on solids by snatching a saltine at 5 months old), via Facebook:

There are no dairy ingredients listed, however - they are kosher dairy. It's something you might want to look into if she starts acting like she's had dairy. Momma and I thought maybe they use a dairy based flavoring of some kind because there are "flavors" listed in the ingredients that they don't tell us what are. On the other hand it could be something like dairy processed in the same plant.

Today, we saw broccoli bits, but also what is almost certainly a bit of blood.

Damn it.

I know that she didn't eat much of the crackers, but I did.

Between the two of us, we've been through about a "tube" and a half in two days, and I think we gave her maybe six crackers - of which, she may have swallowed a few crumbs.

She probably got more cow's milk protein via the breast milk than directly from the crackers themselves.

I guess we've learned a few things from this little experience:

1. Ritz crackers do have milk in them
2. Peeper is still sensitive to dairy
3. Mama's not having mac and cheese any time soon.

So, we've made the Ritz off-limits to both of us, and Peeper will stick with bananas and broccoli for a few days while I keep an eye on her poop, before adding anything new.

We've been thinking, the past couple of days, that her gums might be starting to hurt her, because she's been kind of whiney, and maybe kind of chewy. Or maybe she's no more chewy that usual - or maybe now she's hoping more things will have flavor and will break off in her mouth and be swallowable - and maybe she's been whiney because her belly and/or booty have been hurting.

If that's the case, it shouldn't take long for that tiny bit of dairy to clear out of both of us and for her to be back to normal.

If it's the gums, all bets are off.

Six Months

Dear Peeper,
You are six months old today. You are also six weeks post-op, and have officially completed the "recovery period" from your open-heart surgery, and now have no more activity restrictions.

Mommy threw caution to the wind and "flew" you a bit last night, and you loved it. When we did this before you surgery, you seemed happy enough, but this time, you laughed and laughed.

I wonder if you remember doing it before? I wonder if you missed it?

The "flying" might be a bit riskier for your ground crew now than it was back then, thanks to your new post-op habit of spitting up, but seeing that smile on your face, and hearing your laugh makes it well worth the risk.

Actually, I hesitate to type this out loud, but you've only spit up a tiny bit today, whereas you've still been doing it multiple times a day - and often a lot at a time - pretty much since your surgery.

Wouldn't it be great (and kind of funny) if you were suddenly done with that, and we could just say "She spit up a lot when she was recovering from surgery. . . ."

I'm not going to hold my breath for that, though.

Getting the discussion of your other bodily functions out of the way - your poop is looking great since I cut the rest of the dairy products out of my diet. Over the past couple of months, you've move from, um, moving pretty much every time you ate, to every few hours, to every day or two.

But when you do go, it's spectacular!

I don't think it's giving you any pain or difficulty anymore, because it always seems to catch us by surprise, but it's obvious you've been saving up, because there sure is a lot of it!

But it looks great! A consistent, beautiful, text-book mustard color, no blood, no big production of making it come out, no problem.

(I know, I know - stereotypical new mom, obsessed with baby's poop, but we've had issues, you know. It's important.)

So - good news and bad news - the dairy seems to have been the problem.

The doctor that we talked to before said that I could try adding it back to my diet when you hit six months, but I'm surviving just fine without it, so I think I will wait at least another month, until you are gestationally six months old, and then maybe we'll give it a try, and see how you handle it.

On that subject, we will discuss solid food with the doctor at your well-baby appointment on Wednesday, but unless he tells us you've got some sort of deficiency that will only be remedied by smooshed bananas, we're of a mind to hold off just a bit longer, likely to seven months.

Especially given that we know you have one allergy, I'd feel a little more comfortable giving you that additional time to let your little digestive system mature before messing around with it.

I've been researching the hell out of this, and on the one hand, all the reading I'm doing is really making me start to look forward to watching you experiment with the new tastes and textures that solid foods will bring, but it's also reassured me that you'll be just fine waiting, and might be better off.

As far as the "readiness for solids" checklists go, you're kind of so-so.

You definitely have complete control of your head, and sit well with support, but not without it (different sources say different things there).

You are reaching and grasping and putting things in your mouth, but not in a very coordinated way at all.

You are slobbery (but not enough to have any kind of a "teething rash" yet) and definitely enjoy gnawing on things, but don't particularly seem to be having any gum pain yet, and I don't think I can feel any teeth under there yet.

So, I definitely think you've started the teething process, but I don't expect that we'll see any actual teeth for quite a while.

I'm not sure where you stand on losing your tongue-thrust reflex. It still seems like you stick it out quite a lot when something goes in your mouth - but are you just licking those things? That's on our list of things to ask the doctor about.

Here's the list:

• Remember to find out what percentiles you're in for height/weight, both for actual and adjusted ages
• Solid readiness - gut closure, tongue-thrust, etc
• Teeth - can he feel anything under your gums?
• Fine-motor skills - should you still be whapping yourself in the face so damn much?
• Sun protection for summer - what sunscreen is safest for wee tots?
• Surgical incision - check healing, when/whether to put vitamin E or something like that on it; that one tiny stitch working its way out at the bottom - can he do something about it, because we're chicken!
• Spitting up - any ideas why surgery caused such a change in frequency?
• Swine flu - what the hell?! Do you need a shot? What about the fact that I'm planning to take you to Texas in a few months?

[Hey Interwebs - Have I forgotten anything?]

So, what else are you up to these days?

You are still looking like you'd really like to roll over from back to stomach, but still haven't done it yet. I figure that when you finally do, you'll be really pissed off about it, though, because then you'll be on your stomach, and you hate that.

I do make you do some "tummy time," but it generally involves you crying until you either roll over onto your back, or until I can't stand it anymore and pick you up.

But you looooove to stand up, and have been supporting your weight standing (and lifting yourself to standing, using your legs, just holding on to our hands for balance) for quite some time now, so maybe you'll just blow off the crawling thing and go right to walking.

(Or, maybe in a month or two, we'll be laughing and laughing about all those people who implied that you might never learn to crawl if we didn't put you on your stomach more, as we chase you around the house and try to keep you from eating gobs of dog fur out of the carpet.)

[Note to self: Must vacuum more often when Peeper learns to crawl.]

You're also making progress toward sitting up. We practice that several times a day, and you've definitely got the strength (you no longer just fold up and crumple forward, like you did a couple of months ago), but not the balance (you do tip over).

But, you've gone from maybe teetering upright for two or three seconds (which was photo-worthy a couple of weeks ago) to staying vertical for several seconds, before you start to keel over.

A couple of times, I've even seen you right yourself when you've started listing in one direction or the other!

I figure you've still got several weeks to go before we're comfortable saying that you are sitting up, but you're definitely on your way.

You still enjoy talking, and have added quite a variety of squeals to your repetiore in the past few weeks.

Often, when I get out of the shower, I hear you in the other room, and thing "Oh, crap, she's crying," then I realize that you're just squealing at Mommy and whatever silliness she's got going on at the moment.

You're not yet imitating or repeating sounds (the milestone chart tells me that's the next stage to expect) but you do very often say something that is somewhere in between "Hiiii!" and "Heeeey!"

You usually say it "to" something or someone (or somepet) that you're interested in at the moment, but it's not quite consistent enough for us to declare it a "word." I am trying to reinforce it as though you meant it as one, though, so whether it is now or not, it might eventually be your first word.

(Yes, I do know that saying that to all the world at this point pretty much guarantees that you will never make that sound again, and that your first word will, in reality, be "fuck." Pronounced with perfect clarity. To an eighty-seven year-old nun. With perfect hearing.)

Of course, as you say it, you will be grinning at her with the most precious grin ever, that just screams "How damn cute am I!?"

Because that's what you do when strangers talk to you. And, of course, I love it.

I only wish that I could actually see your face when I'm wearing you in the wrap, and didn't have to rely on them saying "Oh, there's a big smile!" to know that you're charming them.

Unless, of course, they want to hold you, then it's a whole 'nother story.

You're not so much about hanging out with anyone but me and Mommy. And with good reason - as much as we've taken you out and about in the world, we've been very careful about not passing you around willy-nilly, to protect you from germs and such.

(Dog slobber germs, restaurant floor germs, backyard dirt germs? That's all good; we're building immunity. Strangers touching your hands and breathing in your face? Get away from mah poor sick bay-bee! I'm a new mother; I do not have to justify my neuroses.)

And you know what? You're six months old. You know who your moms are and you prefer to be with us. I think that's actually a pretty good thing.

You've got plenty of time to hang out with other people when you're an obnoxious teenager; I'm really not too concerned about it.

(Except when it's people who you really ought to be happy to be with, and it kind of hurts their feelings when you cry, and then it really stresses Mama out, and having a stressed-out Mama is not the way to make you any happier, so yeah, it would be nice if you could at least pretend to be okay with them for a little while. Pretty please?)

As you may have noticed, we are not at all of the "put the baby on a schedule" philosophy, and we're quite happy to play loosey-goosey with things like meals and naps.

You nurse when you say you're hungry, then you generally fall asleep. You might stay asleep for thirty minutes, or for three hours, one never knows.

You do generally take at least a couple of good naps - an hour or more, and usually one or two long naps - two or three hours, as well as several cat-naps, over the course of the day.

I think. I really don't pay that much attention to it. I hope there's not going to be a quiz.

We've sort of learned that if our schedule is flexible, we should wait til you wake up on your own to try to go somewhere, rather than waking you up mid-nap to take you out and about.

(The hard way.)

I have also learned that if you wake up crying, it's a safe bet that you are not done sleeping, and I can offer you some goody (maybe after a diaper change) and you'll go right back out, and stay asleep for a good while longer.

If you wake up just blinking your eyes, looking around, and smiling at me, you are done sleeping, and I'm not going to get you to go back down for "just a few more minutes," no matter how convenient that might be for me, so I don't even bother trying.

The one bit of structure that it would be helpful to have would be for you to be happy to go to sleep and stay asleep for the night at the same time that we want to.

Of course, with Mommy's work schedule, our bedtime is around 2 am, but lately you've been stretching that a bit.

Actually, you are happy to go to sleep around 1:30 or so (after a bath and some goody), but you seem to have this idea that that is a nap, and you almost always wake up after about thirty minutes - maybe while I'm trying to transfer you to bed or maybe still in my lap.

(Lately you fall asleep better if we're up, on the boppy, than lying in bed.)

Then, you and I are up for another thirty minutes to an hour, playing or whatever (you're usually not unhappy, just not asleep) and then you nurse back to sleep, and you're down for the night.

What. The. Hell?

The upside is that once you're down at 3 or 4 am, you stay asleep til 11 or noon, with some goody-in-our-sleep sometime mid-morning. So, that's not really so bad.

I'm sure we'll work it out, and like every other habit or pattern you've established, it will change soon enough, as you grown and change and mature, and I don't have to get up and go to work in the morning, so it's not that big of a deal.

But really, is that last nap necessary? Can't we just go to sleep at 2 am and call it good?

So, what makes six-month-old-Peeper a happy girl?

You still love hanging out on your changing table, playing with toys, watching your panda mobile, or listening to Mommy be a goofball. Preferably naked.

(You are naked, not Mommy. Although that's pretty entertaining, too.)

You are really enjoying the bathtub - Now With Toys! - although you still complain about getting out and getting dressed.

You think that BigGaloot's tail is about the funniest thing ever, and you love to watch it wag. You also like it when he licks your toes, although we try to avoid letting him lick your hands or face. When we can.

You want very much to pet all your kitties and puppies, and often do, but there's still that coordination thing to be dealt with, and your tendency to want to grab their faces. We try to avoid that, too. When we can.

You've really enjoyed being outside, in the very-summer-like weather that we've had lately. We can't wait to get you in your swimming pool!

Warning: Cliches Ahead

I can't believe that you have been here for six months. And I can't believe that it's only been six months since we met you.

It seems like just yesterday that you were born, and yet we've been through so much in that time.

It has really been nonstop since the moment you were born, between the stress of your early arrival, and your breastfeeding difficulties, and worries about your growth and the jaundice, and the trips to the Children's Hospital, and your heart defect, and then your surgery, and jeez, can we just stop and breathe for a moment? Please?

I sure hope that the next six months is a little less eventful than the first. Let's try to limit the excitement to that of the milestone-reaching variety, okay, kiddo?

I look at photos of you when you were a newborn, and I can barely remember that tiny - terrifyingly tiny - baby that you were. You have come so far.

I try to extrapolate that growth and development over the next six months, but I just can't even picture you as a one-year-old; it seems as abstract to me as picturing you as an eighty-year-old woman.

But I know that in just six short months - and all I can think about today is how short the past six months has been - you will be a year old.

Still our baby, but not a baby-baby.

It's so weird to think about how recent your birth feels, and to realize how soon your birthday will be here.

You are moving closer everyday to being a "big baby," and before long you will be sitting up, crawling, eating Cheerios - but not just yet.

Not today.

Today, you are still our baby.

As much as I look forward to all of those things, as proud as I am of every little milestone and baby-step you've taken over the past six months, as eagerly as I cheer you on as you reach for the next level, I'm happy for you to be our baby for just a bit longer, and I'm trying my best to savor every minute of it, while it lasts.

At the same time, the little glimpses that we get of those upcoming stages - seeing you sit up for a few moments before toppling over, holding your hands as you stand, looking for all the world like you could take off walking any second, swearing that you just told the cat "Hi!" - they are like a sneak preview of the little girl that you will be, the little girl that you are closer everyday to becoming, the little girl that I can't wait to meet.

I love you, baby/girl.

Love,
Mama

Another Playdate!or Choosey Cloth Diaper Snob Becomes Huggies-Loving Beggar

Peeper and I had another playdate yesterday, during which I learned an important lesson:

This:

"We're just taking a little walk, and I don't want to carry a bag. I'll leave the diapers in the car and change her when we get back."

Is a Very. Bad. Plan.

Actually, that was only one of the lessons that I learned yesterday, but let me begin at the beginning.

One of my Democratic Party buddies (C) and his wife (A) - both lovely people - had a baby (Hmm, also W. Ok, we'll call him BoyW and our playmate from last week will be GirlW.) in early February, and since then, we've been trying to find a time to get together.

I've been driving around with a gift bag full of Target stuff for the little guy for a couple of months, and last week I realized that he' s probably outgrown those newborn clothes by now, so I went and bought a couple of six-month-sized things, and we're saving the tiny stuff for a player to be named later.

(There are actually a few potential recipients in the works. None of whom I'm allowed to blog about yet.)

So, A and I finally made a plan to meet up on the campus of the women's college down the road, to take a walk with the babies. It was scheduled to be a beautiful day, and the campus runs along a creek, and features both an organic farm and an equestrian center. So, it's not your typical "college campus" for scenery purposes.

The plan was for her to call as she was wrapping up lunch with friends, and I'd start my last-minute preparations and head over.

Of course, when she called, Peeper was asleep and nursing, wearing just a diaper - and all her clean diapers were in the dryer. With Shrike's help, I changed her diaper, dressed her, stuffed some freshly-dried diapers and repackaged the gift.

(Threw the newborn stuff out of the now-torn gift bag, tossed in the big-boy jammies. Shrike asked if I'd remembered to remove the price tags. I ripped them off, while saying, "Oh, she shops at Target - she knows what this stuff costs!")

Then, the diaper bag dilemma.

I certainly didn't want to carry the "real" bag on our walk, because it's just ridiculously huge.

Lately, I've been taking a smaller bag to carry into stores and such, with just the essentials, while leaving the big bag in the car.

(The smaller bag is actually the freebie from the hospital, but Shrike cut the "Similac" tag off of it for me, because it pisses me off that hospitals allow formula companies to market that way. So, I will use their free bag, but I will not display their logo.)

But - I didn't really want to carry that while walking either, so I debated digging out the backpack.

Shrike said, "Oh, you're just walking around. Leave the diaper bag in the car. You'll be fine."

Cue ominous music.

(Also: You like how I make this all her fault? Because it couldn't possibly be my fault.)

We did have a lovely walk, and a lovely visit, complete with the obligatory comparisons of our labor experiences. (We used the same OB practice, and MidwifeD, who delivered Peeper, was with her throughout labor, and Dr B did the actual delivery, so there was much to talk about.)

There was also baby comparison, of course, and this time Peeper got to be the big kid. Well, at least the old kid, and the mature kid, since BoyW, at about 10 weeks old, actually weighs a few ounces more than she does!

At one point, BoyW was waking up from his nap and fussing, and Peeper was starting to squirm in the wrap and fuss, so we found a nice picnic table by the creek, so they could enjoy their respective lunches.

Peeper was not really into nursing - on / off / on /off - and still fussing aound, so I did something that I never do.

I thought she might be wet, so I stuck a finger between the snaps of her outfit, and into the edge of her diaper, to check.

And that is when I learned lesson number two.

So to speak.

A asked, "Would you like a baby wipe?"

I said, "Well, my diapers are in the car, so . . . oh, you mean for me? Yes, please."

I wiped off my hand, and Peeper kept fussing, so then Amy offered me more wipes - and a diaper.

And I will be forever grateful.

Lessons learned.

Slow Learners

Today, on the way home from the cardiologist's office, Peeper started squawking about fifteen minutes from home.

(Or five minutes? Or thirty? Who knows? It seemed like hours.)

As Shrike performed the Glowworm / rattle / please-Baby-please-shut-up-be-happy song and dance in the backseat, and I barreled drove as quickly as I safely could down the Interstate, we discussed possible causes for her distress.

(Also known as, the "What the fuck is her problem?!" conversation. Not the first time we've had it. I'm sure it won't be the last.)

Shrike brought up the fact that she'd pitched a similar fit in the car last night, while we were out picking up Taco Bell (Yes. Picking up Taco Bell. With the baby. At damn near midnight. You got a problem with that, June Cleaver?) and I said, "Yeah, she got a little happier when we took her out of the carseat while we were eating (in the parking lot - the plan was for her to nurse, since she was being so pissy, but she wasn't interested) but started up again when we put her back in, so I think she was just mad about the carseat."

When we got home, I changed her diaper, as is our routine and - Hello! Poopy pants!

Cue flashback music and effects . . .

Cut our car, in the Taco Bell parking lot last night . . .

Whozat: Do you think we ought to check her diaper?
Shrike: Nah, she's fine.

Cue ominous music . . .

Cut to the changing table at home, after the trip to Taco Bell . . .

Whozat: Let the record show, that I was the one who said to check her pants!

End flashback, return to changing table this afternoon . . . .

Whozat: Doh!

So, we've now decided that anytime she suddenly starts squawking in the car for no apparent reason, we will find the nearest safe and convenient place to pull off the road and investigate the diaper situation.

Live and learn, Mommy and Mama.

Live. And. Learn.

Five Months

Dear Peeper:

You are five months old today.

(That is a lie. You were, technically, five months old yesterday, because I'm writing this at like 3 am and back-dating it. I meant to write it earlier but you and I took a reeeeaaaalllly long nap, which I am not going to complain about one bit, then I spent the rest of the evening on the phone with AuntieKay. (I've decided that trips off the fingertips better than "Aunt LadyKay."))

So, as I was saying. . . . You are five months old "today."

That's kind of freaking me out a bit, because five months is almost six months, at which point you'll be half-way through your first year, and if the the second half goes as fast as the first half, then ohmyGod, you're almost a year old, and the next thing I know, you'll be grown!

Or, maybe, you're five months old.

Of course, for the past few weeks, everything has revolved around your surgery.

Preparing for surgery. Having surgery. Recovering from surgery.

I realized to day that I tend to think, not so much that "Peeper is recovering from surgery," but rather that, "We are recovering from Peeper's surgery," because I really think it was probably a lot harder on me and Mommy than it was on you.

We had to worry for months about whether you would need surgery, then worry for a month or so about the surgery that we knew you were having, then worry while you were in surgery, then watch and worry about you while you were in the hospital, now worry about you as you recover.

You, on the other hand, were a little trooper.

Of course, on the one hand, it may have helped that you didn't understand that it was going to happen, or the magnitude of what was going on.

On the other hand, though, you also didn't understand why we gave you to those strange men (the anesthesiology team) or why you woke up "a few minutes" (several hours) later with those strange ladies pulling tubes out of your nose and throat, or why your chest hurt so damn bad (I can only assume that it must have) or why you were in such a crazy place, and in a crib (for the first time since your newborn hospital bassinet) and where the hell were your mothers - and your goody?!?

But you took it incredibly well, and I just can't get over how quickly you were back to smiling and laughing and being more or less yourself.

I am so glad that is (mostly) over with.

I think it's safe to that it was the hardest thing that Mommy and I have ever been through, and I certainly hope that you don't have any plans to top it.

I am so looking forward to a few weeks from now, when you are completely off your medications, and to a few weeks after that when you're all healed up and we don't have to worry about handling you so carefully and such, and you can just be (as Dr. C put it) "a normal baby."

The whole thing just seems surreal, because things like babies having open-heart surgery is something that happens to "other people."

Today, I was talking with someone whom I don't know very well, (coincidentally, I learned that his dad is a professor of neonatology at SurgeryHospital) and I told him about your surgery, and his response was, "Oh my God!"

Yeah, exactly.

I guess we kind of tried to be a bit nonchalant about it (Yep, this is me, nonchalant. Lord help you when I start making a bit deal about something.) but this really is a huge damn deal, and it's really kind of hard to wrap my head around the fact that we have done this big damn deal thing, and that we've all come through it with flying colors.

I try to picture how we'll look back on it, years from now.

How you'll tell people (probably in response to questions about your "zipper.") "Oh, that? I had open-heart surgery when I was a baby," or we'll casually mention it in passing, "Yeah, when Peeper was at SurgeryHospital. . . . " or tell some other terrified parent, "Oh, my daughter had that surgery years ago. . . ."

But it's hard to imagine it just being "something that happened once" and not something all-consuming.

But, of course, I know it will, eventually, be just something in our past, which makes it all the more surreal.

Right now, we just need to get through the next few weeks of recover, so we can move on from this whole chapter of our lives.

Another thing I'd like to move one from is this whole question of what's going on with your belly and your booty and your poopy and whatever else that's about.

I'm getting very frustrated, because I hate the idea that you are hurting and we don't know what to do about it.

I'm not getting a lot of answers from your doctors, or from Dr. Google, for that matter.

Mostly, it just feels like a lot of speculation about what exactly it is that I am doing wrong, that's hurting you.

If someone could just tell me what it is that I'm eating that's not agreeing with you, I would be happy to stop eating it, but it's more like, "Well, try cutting out this for a few weeks, and we'll see how it goes," but then it's a few more weeks of not having an answer, and your symptoms come and go so much, we can't tell if we've solved anything.

So, far, I'm avoiding all dairy-containing foods, but I don't know if I've seen a difference. I just keep wondering if it's something else entirely.

And it's just killing me to see you hurting (which doesn't happen all the time, but when it does, it's awful - but is it even poop-related, or are we just blaming everything on that?) and it scares the hell out of me when I see the blood in your poop (even though it's only happened a few times, it's still terrifying every time, because it's just so wrong).

I just want an answer and a solution, so we can move on from that one, too.

Mostly, though, despite all that, you are great.

That's still my answer when people ask how you're doing.

"She's great!"

Still half sliced-open from surgery? "She's great!"

Spitting up all the time? "She's great!"

Bloody poop? "She's great!"

Crying her damn fool head off for an hour this morning? "She's great!"

Medications (only!) twice a day, and doctors at least once a week? "She's great!"

Because you are.

You are just great.

Reaching and grasping and shaking your rattle? You're great.

Laughing til you get the hiccups, just like Mommy? You're great.

Snugging beside me in bed at night? You're great.

Sucking both your thumbs at once? You're great.

Cracking yourself up in the mirror? You're great.

Giggling at BigGaloot's tail swishing around? You're great.

Enthralled with your Glow Worm (this has been a lifesaver lately)? You're great.

Nursing all night long? You're great.

Greeting Mommy with a big gummy grin? You're great.

Taking a "shower" in my lap, or Mommy's? You're great.

And for so many other things that I'm too tired to even think of, you are just the greatest.

And I am the luckiest.

Still, even after five months, every couple of days or so I still look at you and just think "Oh my God. We have a baby. How the hell did that happen?"

It just still seems so surreal and so unbelievable that we could possibly be so lucky.

Of course, I am also, over and over, overwhelmed by the huge responsibility that is you.

The idea that we have been entrusted with such a huge and important job as nurturing and molding and forming a human being is just absolutely overwhelming, and humbling, and just the greatest honor ever.

I only hope that I can live up to you.

Happy birthday, my little sweetness


love,
Mama

Structurally Sound

Peeper got her Synagis shot today, and we got word that her abdominal x-ray was normal, showing no blockages or structural wierdnesses, so that's good to know.

I wasn't particularly worried about it, but it is good to rule out that kind of thing.

I asked the nurse about the possibility of thrush, since Peeper had quite a bit of antibiotics post-op, and she checked out her mouth and declared it all clear.

I'm still not completely convinced that's not the case, though, since I'm definitely feeling some ouchies on my end of the equation.

Other possible explanations for that could be that she's nursing more frequently since surgery, including basically all night long, now that we've freed her from the nest and convinced her that the side-lying position is cool, and maybe her latch isn't so great in that position, but I read something just today saying that "often the only sign of thrush is that nursing is painful, when it was previously painless." Hmmm. . . .

She is still spitting up a bit - not like those three crazy "Hey, here's all the milk in my tummy!" times, but certainly more than is normal for her. (Any is more than normal for her.)

This nurse said the spitting up could be related to having been intubated, but it didn't start in earnest until about three days later, so that seems odd to me.

She did suggest that I keep a log of what I eat (ruh roh, I need to start that!) so that we can see if there's anything specific that seems to be related to her bloody stool, and said that if she has any more, to call in and see about having her checked out again by one of the doctors.

Barring that, she'll go back around April 22 for her last Synagis shot (since the insurance was willing to pay for one more, they want to go ahead and do it, since she's had the surgery and all that, even though it will be the tail end of the season) and again on April 29 for her six-month well-baby check-up!

Yes, it does seem we could do those at the same time, but there are some vaccines that can't be given until after their actual six-month birthday, so we can't do that appointment any sooner than April 27 (also Shrike's 40th, by the way), but that's past the Synagis window, so we have to have two separate appointments.

Oh well, we're there practically every week anyway!

And Now, For Her Next Trick . . .

Now that we've got this heart thing about licked (knock wood), we need to address Peeper's digestive concerns.

When I called the pediatrician's office today to check on her Synagis shot, I also left a message for the doctor about yesterday's bloody poop, and asked if she'd like to actually see her when we're there tomorrow for the shot.

They called back to say that the shot had been approve, for both this month and next (The insurance company had lost the pre-certification request. Shocking.) and that she had lab orders for an abdominal x-ray, just to make sure that Peeper doesn't have any kind of obstruction or anything of a structural sort going on in her gut.

Shrike was at work already, so Peep and I were on our own for this one, but it went fine. I loaded her up and we went to the pediatrician's office to pick up the orders, then downstairs to the lab for the x-ray.

That went fine, other than having to juggle Peeper and the diaper bag and my coat (Spring Temperatures, where are you?!) all by myself.

(I don't know how all those poor little kids who only have one mom ever get anywhere. It generally takes all we've both got to manage ourselves.)

She got a bit fussy in the waiting room, but a littl goody fixed that right up. Of course, then it was our turn, so she was a bit indignant about that.

Once we got in the x-ray room, she was a complete little charmer, though, smiling at the techs, and just being as cute as could be.

I wasn't too thrilled about the fact that, in order to see her abdomen, they weren't able to do any ovarian shielding, and also a bit annoyed that, after having me just open up her outfit (metal snaps) but leave her diaper on, they had to go back and do a second, naked, image because the cloth diaper was too puffy and was obstructing their view so, you know, twice as much radiation for my future grandchildren.

But, I also know that, realistically, one little x-ray is nothing in the grand scheme of things, so I'm not too concerned about it.

(I started to say, "After all, I had at least one set of abdominal x-rays as a kid and my ovaries were fi. . . ." Oh. Nevermind. But, I am quite sure that had more to do with the thirty-nine-plus years they spent not being x-rayed, rather than the few seconds that they were.)

I made sure that the techs knew that we've got an appointment tomorrow morning, and they made a note that the x-ray needs to be read and the report faxed to the doctor in time for her to look at it before then.

We certainly hope that this x-ray doesn't turn up any real problems, but we sure would like to have some sort of an answer besides, "Well, it could be dairy. Stop eating cheese and let's see how she does."

If she were having the bloody stool on a regular basis, that would be much worse, but at least we'd be able to see if we were making it better with these changes, rather than just having to wait and see if we get another random incident.

So, it continues . . . .

Riddle Me This

Remember a while back, when you laughed at me for wanting to say "vet" instead of "pediatrician?"

Well, now I'm not sure which one we should call, because the kid and the dog are exhibiting identical symptoms.

Seriously.

Peeper and PerfectPup had synchronized bloody poops this afternoon.

What. The. Fuck?

PerfectPup has had hurty-poopy issues off and on since she was about six months old, but only in the past few months have we seen blood, which was diagnosed as colitis.

(Which, I think, is just a fancy way of saying "hurty poopy.")

She was doing some yelping yesterday, and then actually had one hurty poopy in the house, which is definitely out of the ordinary for her. Then, she was clingy again today, so we knew it wasn't over yet.

(When she's not feeling well, she follows us around very closely, then poops and cries.)

Peeper was in my lap, and PerfectPup was right beside the chair, whining. I told her, "Well go outside if you need to poop. Go find Mommy to let you out," and she trotted off.

(Seriously, she did. Actually I think Mommy was outside - ironically, picking up poop.)

A few minutes later, I heard her yelping and said to Peeper, "Poor Puppy!" - Just then, I felt Peeper pooping. At the very same time.

Later, I was walking down the hall to take Peeper for a diaper change, when I passed PerfectPup and saw that her fluffy white booty fur had some blood on it.

I hollered to Shrike, "Hey, have you seen PP's butt?" She had, and was on the case.

Just then, I opened Peeper's diaper and shouted again to Shrike, "You're not going to believe this one!"

Upon further inspection of Peeper, we also noticed that, instead of just the same perianal (thank you for the big word, Anonymama) redness that she usually has, she's red all over her booty-cheeks.

(Sorry. Buttocks. Or, as LittleNiece says "Butt tocks." You know, your butt has several parts: cheeks, crack, hole, tocks. . . .)

Butt, I digress. . . .

So, now what?

Some thoughts:

Thrush? We're not seeing anything in her mouth, but she did get a lot of antibiotics post-op. I may be feeling some nipple tenderness myself, but on the other hand, she's been nursing 24/7 since we got home, so maybe they're just tired.

Maybe it's the "gets worse before it gets better" thing again with the dairy. Would that happen again, from cutting out the rest of it from my diet?

Maybe the bloody poop (and probably hurty poop, although the bloody one didn't seem to hurt) and the redness are unrelated? The poop could still be messed up from the morphine, and maybe the redness is because there was a diaper-laundering miscommunication, and they've not been getting their extra rinse, to remove any detergent residue.

(Ack, I need to go put all the clean diapers in for an extra rinse right now!)

This all happened, of course, at around 5:30 pm, so we didn't call the doctor's office about it, because we figured we'd get the same answer as before, that it's not an emergency unless it's a whole lot of blood, or her stool is black with older blood, or something else bad.

I will be talking to them tomorrow, anyway, to see how they're coming along with the insurance company, regarding her last Synagis shot, which she's supposed to get this week.

It seems the insurance company is denying it, saying that she doesn't need it because "RSV season is over."

Tell that to all the RSV babies who were in the hospital with her, or the baby that our doctors diagnosed on Friday, or LeaderH (DoulaK's La Leche League co-leader) whose baby (about six weeks older than Peeper) was diagnosed with it today.

(Rememember when DoulaK stopped by yesterday? She had dropped off some things to LeaderH right before that, but just left them on the porch, because everyone there is sick, and she's got like three births coming up, and has four kids of her own, and can't afford to be sick or germy. Thank God!)

But, again, I digress. . . .

So, Peeper is spitting up a whole lot less now, but still more than normal for her. She's had another bloody stool (one diaper, plus a teensy maybe bit on the next diaper) and she's screaming her ever-loving head off, pumping her little leg and not settling to nurse, fairly often, probably when she needs to poop, and her whole butt is red.

Coincidence? I think not.

And, PerfectPup is having hurty, bloody diarrhea, too.

Coincidence? Surely, it must be.

Right?

Readjusting

We've now been home about two days, and we're all still kind of getting readjusted.

Peeper saw one of her pediatricians yesterday, and she was quite impressed with the difference in her heart-sounds from the last time she listened. (There is no murmur at all now!)

She didn't really have a whole lot of insight for us on the bloody poop issue, though (and we've not seen any more since) but recommended agreed with my recommendation that I cut out the rest of the dairy from my diet - start actually reading labels, rather that just skipping the milk, cheese, ice cream and such.

She acknowledged that, "I know it's a lot of work. . . " but as I told her, "Well, it was a lot of work carrying her [Okay, not really.] and having her [Yes.] but it was worth it, and this is, too."

(But does she have to be sensitive to like my favorite foods in the whole world? Couldn't she be allergic to broccoli?)

Although the bloody poop is gone, Peeper's still spitting up, and had a couple more rather impressive spits while lying in her "nest" in the wee hours this morning.

(Could have been worse - most of the night, she was on the boppy in my lap.)

I called the doctor's office about it, because although this amount of spit-up might be a "good day" for some babies, it is very out of character for her.

The doctor said that the spitting, and what seems to be some painful poopies (but not hard or bloody) is likely caused by her little digestive system just having a hard time getting revved back up after being slowed down by the morphine that she was getting off and on for most of the week.

On Friday, she pooped around 2:30 pm, on the way home from the doctor's office, and then I don't think she did again until about 11 am today. That is not normal for her.

So, I suppose it's no surprise that she's spitting up. She's been nursing almost constantly, and nothing's leaving through the other end, so where else is that milk going to go, but back out the way it came in?

DoulaK stopped by to visit for a while this afternoon, and Peeper spit up a bit while she was here. She said that it was obvious how rare an occurance that is, because we were completely unprepared for it.

There was no spit-rag handy, there was none in the diaper bag, and we were absolutely at a loss as to what to do about it.

I had to go all the way to her bedroom, and into the dresser, and grab a cloth-diaper-that's-not-being-used-as-a-diaper to clean her up!

So, we're hoping she'll have the kinks worked out in the next day or two, and the spitting will stop, as well as the dramatics involved with pooping.

At least, we're assuming that's what she's crying about; she's got her leg a'kickin' and is not wanting to settle in to nurse, which generally goes along with poopy issues.

Also, we've had some crying just it's almost time for another dose of Tylenol, which we're assuming has to do with hurting from the surgery itself.

All in all, though, she's really hanging in there and doing very well. I've never had thoracic surgery, but I know that she's "getting around" much better than I was five days after abdominal surgery.

On the other hand, she is still very much a poor baby.

We have to remind ourselves that, on the inside, she had a pretty significant problem which has now been resolved - because, on the outside, it sure looks like we took a perfectly good baby and broke her.

Are You Sick Of Hearing Me Talk About Poop Yet?

So, we took Peeper in to see the pediatrician this afternoon, for a post-op look-see and to talk about the bloody (again!) poop.

This was the same doctor (there are several in the practice) who saw her recently for her four-month appointment, and for her cold.

She said that she's looking great, for just having had open-heart surgery, that her incision is coming along nicely and that she couldn't hear any heart murmur at all!

As to the poop thing, basically Shrike and I both felt like the gist of what she said was, "Hell if I know."

I could be related to the narcotics that she had for pain relief slowing down her digestive system, and it's irritated as it's getting going again, or it could be more of the same, which could be a sensitivity to something in my diet, which could be dairy.

None of that is definitive at all.

We did agree that removing the "obvious" dairy from my diet has not done the trick, so she said to start reading labels and try to avoid all dairy products - which pretty much rules out just about anything that comes in a box.

That also rules out chocolate, which is going to be a tough one for me, but which I've kind of had a nagging feeling about - probably more like a fear that it was going to be the culprit, or at least an accomplice.

I asked whether I ought to do an actual elimination diet, but she said to try getting rid of the rest of the dairy and we'll see where things stand next week, when we go back for Peeper's last Synagis shot.

Oh, and she weighed 10 lb 7 oz - which, as I'm sure Anonymama will tell you, if I don't beat her to it - was my birth weight.