Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Long time human, first time parent

We've been feeding Sydney increasingly chunkier pureed mashes consisting of different types of vegetables for almost three months now, and for the most part they've agreed with her. She's also developed some sense of what she does and does not like; for instance, carrots and cauliflower are on the do-I-have-to? list, while applesauce is on the I-can-not-will-not-Sam-I-am list. Winter squash, rice cereal, avocado and beets are on the favorites list.

Anyway to make a long story longer, Sydney's last meal the night before had been beets.

I put her to bed with no incident at 7:30, and then we spent an enjoyable hour watching TV, a luxury which has only just begun to return to us, puttered around for a little while, took the dog for walk and finally climbed into bed around 10:30.

I swear she has radar in her head. Okay, now's the time to do my trick! At first it was a just a cough and a whimper, then it became more insistent, finally it was definitely something I had to deal with; so I strode into the darkened room and found Sydney covered in what could only be a puddle of blood.

Did I mention Sydney's last meal had been beets?

When I turned on the light to see what was going on, I found that Sydney had deposited her very last meal onto the bed, her clothes and herself, creating perhaps the most horrifying, disgusting sight I have ever been subjected to. And it was up to me to clean it up. Talk about your Dirty Job. Also, while my very first instinct was to pick her up and reassure her that everything was alright, my second instinct was to hold her like a dirty rag, well away from me and everything else. I compromised by holding her close but away from me, in case any more of the beets should make their appearance.

Two baths and several retches later, we finally had her cleaned up enough to reassure her that everything was fine, whereupon she deposited more of her dinner onto herself and the floor and we had to start over. Eventually there was nothing left, which left us free to call the Night Nurse, a service which has been started presumably so that pediatricians can be shielded from anxious, clueless first-time parents and their stupid questions like: "Pedialyte?? What's that?"

We substituted apple juice instead, but it just wasn't the same.

Finally, around 3am, on the recommendation of the Night Nurse, we bundle Sydney up to take her to the hospital to be evaluated for dehydration. We trundle sleepily outside, put the baby in her car seat, turn on the car, and start down the road.

"Car's awful loud," my husband said.
"How's it handling?"
"Okay. Well...." he stopped the car, I got out, and sure as rain, the right front tire was flat as a pancake.

We turn the car around, limp back up the driveway on our flat tire, take the kid out of that car and put her in the other one, turn it on and remember that this car is low on gas. We debate whether we think we have enough gas to get to the nearest gas station, twenty minutes away. We decide we probably do, and drive to that gas station only to discover that it isn't the 24 hour variety of store we were led to believe it was. The attendant isn't moved by our plight, repeating that they were open at five am, but finally relents enough to inform us that the Cumberland Farms down the road is open now.

So we finally get gas at the Cumberland Farms and head off towards the hospital, about an hour later than we'd planned.

When we got there, Sydney was wide awake, quietly smiling at her surroundings and interested in all the new pull toys such as the nurse's station button. The doctor pronounced her fine, repeated the story about the Pedialyte: Elixir of Good For All Babies, and sent us home.

Was it a wasted trip? I don't know; we apparently needed the Pedialyte anyway, and our country bumpkin drugstore isn't open at all hours of the night. Plus Sydney fell asleep in the car ride over there, and we weren't sleeping anyway. We might as well be on the road. Finally, isn't it a given that the first time parent will over react the first time their kid vomits (beets or no beets)? We're just following the same story line that's been carefully laid out before us. We can't wait to see what happens next.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Hi there. I'm Bonnie. I had my daughter on April 19th last year.

I have a question for you. I'm a freelance writer, and I'm doing a story for Pregnancy Magazine on how not to be rude when you're pregnant...usually it's the other way around, you always hear about other people being rude to pregnant women. But I've run into more than one pregnant woman who was rude - for instance, parking in a handicapped spot, cutting in line, talking about cervical mucus at work...

I'm looking for quotes or anecdotes from real moms about rude pregnant women they've known, or things they've seen done. I can give you more details later, but I'd like to just ask first if you'd be interested in helping me out with a quote to be printed in the magazine.

I'm having a hard time finding anybody with anything to say - I don't know what it is, but it's like nobody's ever seen a rude pregnant woman before...I see them all the time though, so maybe I'm oversensitive? Or maybe I'm just asking people who are/were themselves rude while pregnant? Who knows.

But anyway. If you don't want to do this, that's fine. I was just reading back through your blog and thought I finally found somebody who "gets it", so maybe she could give me a quote.

If you are interested in helping me, shoot me an email at bonnie@bonniebailey.net. Thanks for reading this and have a good one!

Bonnie