Niagara Puke Falls
Since having a baby nearly ten weeks ago, I have now had the following body functions done directly on me:
*farts
*puke
*pee
*drool
*spitup
And that's not counting all of the boogeys - of both the eye and nose varieties - I've had to clean with my bare hands, or all the poopy I've had to wipe up.
Tonight as Carlos was making dinner, I fed Gabriel. For the first time since 2am he took all five ounces, and I was glad because he hadn't been eating much today. We played with him for a while, then he got tired, so I wrapped him up, and just as I was putting him in his stroller for his nap, he started to vomit. It wasn't projectile like last time, but there was much, much, much more of it. It got all over the stroller, our rug, the ottoman, the couch, my sweatshirt and fleece sweatpants, Gabriel, and his swaddle. It went down his chin, neck, and chest, and while I freaked out and tried to stop it, I managed to get it into his ears, nose, and even his eyes. Some even got onto his eyeball. Let me repeat that: my infant son had puke on his eyeball. Fan-freaking-tastic. This kid freaks out when I wipe his eyes with a damp cottonball, as if I'm putting acid in his eyes, and yet I accidentally managed to squirt vomit onto his eyeball and he doesn't even flinch. And it just kept coming and coming out of his mouth, as if a tiny little gremlin were pumping it out of his stomach. I'm pretty sure all five ounces and then some managed to escape his little tummy. It just wouldn't stop! I had time to get him from the stroller to the couch, call for Carlos, get a bib under his chin, Carlos come in with a roll of paper towels, and both of us yank paper towels onto his face before he stopped. And the whole time he was totally calm, like nothing unusual was going on, just his open mouth and the ocean of barf coming out of it.
When he finally stopped what can only be described as bucket loads of baby puke, I stripped him down to his diaper and took him into the bathroom to clean him off. He just looked at me like, "What?" I took his temperature to make sure he didn't have a fever (or demonic possession, which I assume is feverishly warm), but he was cool as a cucumber. I found a clean blanket, re-wrapped him, settled him down, and he went right to sleep. Because, you know, barfing up half your body weight in half-digested formula really takes it out of you.
*farts
*puke
*pee
*drool
*spitup
And that's not counting all of the boogeys - of both the eye and nose varieties - I've had to clean with my bare hands, or all the poopy I've had to wipe up.
Tonight as Carlos was making dinner, I fed Gabriel. For the first time since 2am he took all five ounces, and I was glad because he hadn't been eating much today. We played with him for a while, then he got tired, so I wrapped him up, and just as I was putting him in his stroller for his nap, he started to vomit. It wasn't projectile like last time, but there was much, much, much more of it. It got all over the stroller, our rug, the ottoman, the couch, my sweatshirt and fleece sweatpants, Gabriel, and his swaddle. It went down his chin, neck, and chest, and while I freaked out and tried to stop it, I managed to get it into his ears, nose, and even his eyes. Some even got onto his eyeball. Let me repeat that: my infant son had puke on his eyeball. Fan-freaking-tastic. This kid freaks out when I wipe his eyes with a damp cottonball, as if I'm putting acid in his eyes, and yet I accidentally managed to squirt vomit onto his eyeball and he doesn't even flinch. And it just kept coming and coming out of his mouth, as if a tiny little gremlin were pumping it out of his stomach. I'm pretty sure all five ounces and then some managed to escape his little tummy. It just wouldn't stop! I had time to get him from the stroller to the couch, call for Carlos, get a bib under his chin, Carlos come in with a roll of paper towels, and both of us yank paper towels onto his face before he stopped. And the whole time he was totally calm, like nothing unusual was going on, just his open mouth and the ocean of barf coming out of it.
When he finally stopped what can only be described as bucket loads of baby puke, I stripped him down to his diaper and took him into the bathroom to clean him off. He just looked at me like, "What?" I took his temperature to make sure he didn't have a fever (or demonic possession, which I assume is feverishly warm), but he was cool as a cucumber. I found a clean blanket, re-wrapped him, settled him down, and he went right to sleep. Because, you know, barfing up half your body weight in half-digested formula really takes it out of you.