Mary, much like her Mummy, has never, ever been a good pooper. Ever since she was a wee thing, she's had bouts of constipation, and there seems to be nothing we can do about it. From time to time we have given her something called Lactulose, which is a stool softener, but it doesn't really help much. I don't really understand why it gets so bad, sometimes she will poo with alarming regularity, every nap time for a week or two, and then, she stops, and I look forward to the inevitable with growing dread.
You see, she has been straining all week, since her last significant poo on Tuesday. She gets red in the face, she grunts, she struggles, and eventually, she screams her rage to the world, and carries on with life, nothing to show for the drama. I think the biggest problem that we have is that she just hates to poo (again, just like her Mummy), and I suspect that in the beginning, these epic struggles she is having are not her straining to poo, but her struggling not too.
The last time she went this long without pooing I called a public health nurse. Big mistake on my part. I was berated, made to feel stupid and generally a bad mother. I was told that I needed to understand that being a parent meant I needed to make sacrifices (really? Cause Moustapha and I haven't sacrificed a thing for this child!) and I was a bad mother for not giving Mary fresh fruits and veggies. I tried to explain to the nurse that the lack of fresh produce was not due to a lack of trying on my part, Mary just refused to eat them. The nurse then told me "Well, you need to give her fresh fruits and vegetables." Duh. Here is a list of the fresh produce I have tried to offer Mary, only to get spit at, shrieked at, or laughed at:
- Apples, cut up various ways
- Bananas, whole and mashed
- Honeydew Melon
- Those Asian apple/pear thingies that cost $1.99 each
- Sweet potato
Now, don't think that I have tried these things once and then given up. Oh no. I have tried to cut them differently, made sauces, snuck them into her yoghurt, mashed them, baked them, ignored her, pleaded with her...it makes absolutely no difference what I do. She just spits the first taste out, and then clamps her lips shut. She will even spit out the wee chunks of strawberries in her yoghurt.
So, I am getting a little freaked out (about the pooping, not the eating. The eating I have come to terms with. For now.). I don't want to deal with the inevitable screaming in agony as she is no longer able to hold it in. She bleeds, she screams, and I can't do anything to help other than rub her belly and murmur soothing words.
In happier (and less icky) news, Moustapha gets home today at 5:30. I have to drive out to the airport to pick him up, after 12 cm of snow last night, and highway closures. But I will. I want him home and so does Mary. The house is of course a disaster area, and although I'm trying to get a little work done, I suspect the best I can hope for is to get the litter boxes changed, clean sheets on the bed, and maybe all the dishes done. I'm feeling a little too giddy and frazzled to get much else organized around here. Anyways, he's only home for a week, so forgive me if I don't blog much between now and next Saturday or so. I'll not abandon my blog altogether, but I can't promise much.