So we have started weaning and have enjoyed another day in reflux paradise. (Hmm note the sarcasm). As I mopped up the latest eruption, this time fuelled by Baby’s first taste PEAS! (Yes it was like spraying mushy peas out of a hose pipe!) I again laughed out loud to myself. We were both covered in milky, pea gunge and although I am now quite deft at catching the onslaught in a muslin… it was of course… EVERYWHERE.
I’ve said it before but, if I don’t laugh about it I will just cry (I’m sure you know how I feel). So in between mopping up sick, putting on the millionth load of washing and changing us both, yet again, I decided to start the Spewzilla Chronices as I have so many hilarious anecdotes. I will start by sharing my best (or should I say worst) stories and from now on I’d like to feature the Spewzilla Chronicles in The Big Book of Reflux.
Anyone with a baby who suffers from reflux will no doubt recognise my top ten sickie moments and have many of your own anecdotes – some that I am sure will rival mine as I am only five months in. Any of you silent refluxers who have to deal with the hidden (not so silent) demon, please share any of your accounts too… not as much mess… but just as difficult I know!
So let’s share the laughs together, as after all it is better than crying alone.
I look forward to hearing your anecdotes and adding them to the Spewzilla Chronicles.
I am no medical professional but here is my acronym for REFLUX
Regular Expulsion of Food Leaving Us eXasperated!
So here are my Top 10 Spewzilla moments…
The Time Bomb
It’s 4am… you’re dead on your feet and you desperately want to put her down. But you know that you should really keep her upright for at least twenty minutes. She is asleep… you risk it. You place her down gently… all seems well. Will she stay asleep or will the bomb go off? Of course it does and then you spend the next twenty minutes changing her and cleaning up sick. You lose.
When she finally poos but is struggling and so needs help. You lie her down (having fed her in the last hour) and gently cycle her legs (please check with your health professional before doing this). She finally (after three days) manages to poo. It shoots out like korma coloured Mr Whippy and for someone so small you wonder how it can just keep on coming. Each time you lift her leg the Mr Whippy machine produces even more. She has already filled two nappies, you reach for the next nappy and then… yes… you guessed it… up comes the sick. Your reflexes are so quick that you almost wipe her face with the dirty wipe you’ve just used on her bum… I could go on… you get the idea! You lose again.
The Horror Film
After a bottle when she starts to drift off to sleep. She looks so peaceful. And then a slow trickle of milky sick travels down the side of her chin. Each time resembling a vampire kill in a horror film… and you are the victim!
The inevitable hiccups that she no doubt will get for the twentieth time today. When the poor little thing takes a deep in take of breath and the hiccups go wrong as the projectile verp takes over. Pass the baby wipes…. again.
Knicker and Bra Soaker
Yes… we’ve all been there. She’s on your shoulder, rubbing her back, comforting her as she cries with horrible trapped wind. She seems to be settling, you pull her off your shoulder, turn her around to face you and there she blows… True exorcist style. Straight down your cleavage (what’s left of it) The second heave fills your lap and it is futile to even try and clear it up. So you just sit there are take it. As the warm moisture fills your knickers and bra… you know you are a real Mum now.
Car seat squeeze
Trying to time feeds so that you’ve left enough time before you have to put her in the car seat. She is swaddled with bibs and muslins (and a spare change of clothes is in the baby bag). An hour has passed. Surely you will be OK? You place her gently into the car seat, the straps come over her head and you close your eyes as you click the buckle. All seems fine. Then bleurgh… up it comes. The left hand side of our car seat looks like the path from Mount Vesuvius… covering everything in its path!
The Shoulder Boulder
The griping wind is causing her to scream uncontrollably. The only position she seems remotely comfortable is on your shoulder. Despite having approximately 400 hundred muslin cloths in the house somewhere, you can’t lay your hands on one without disturbing her. She writhes and the inevitable shoulder boulder blasts down your shoulder. Another dress caked in sick… Why bother changing?
The Something about Mary
Like the shoulder boulder. She’s on your shoulder, you heard it. She definitely wretched, the familiar sound of the reflux. Great, another dress ruined. You wipe your shoulder and it’s surprisingly dry… it’s disappeared! Hmm… There’s Something about Sick…
That precious time where she is content and happy in the bath. You’ve washed her, she smells divine… true Johnson’s baby. Out she comes, wrapped in the teddy bear towel. You lie her back down to dry her and off goes the bomb! Her beautifully washed hair is caked in sick and her little ears full of cottage cheese… back in she goes…
Tell me about it…
I’d love to hear your stories. Please add to my Spewzilla Chronicles with your own stories and let’s share the joy of reflux babies together.
A special thanks to Ian from Tommy’s Design for designing and donating our very own Mr Reflux cartoons. He will be popping up to say hello every Sunday when the blog will be updated. I look forward to including your stories of Reflux and (the not so silent) Silent Reflux. I look forward to hearing from you.
Email your stories to: email@example.com