*Poop-related post. Just sayin…*
Summer is officially here. And though the days are beginning to shorten, they’re still plenty long. Sunrise was at 4:56 this morning, and it won’t set until 9:34 tonight. The sky stays light until after 11. The blackout shade in my daughter’s room means she might sleep until 5:30 if I’m very lucky, and it still takes her an hour (on average–it could be anywhere from 20 minutes to two hours) to fall asleep each night.
Regardless of daylight hours, the past week has seemed even longer. I took Missy to the doctor last Friday to see if there was something I could give her to make pooping easier. She’d been holding it in, pacing and terrified to go, until she couldn’t hold it any longer–three, four, up to six days since her previous bowel movement. The poops were hard and difficult to pass after all that time, which I thought was contributing to her anxiety about going. That and her major freak out when she pooped in the shower…twice.
So the nurse practitioner prescribed a laxative. I started out giving her the lowest dose, and it seemed to work. Her poop was softer, but the first full day on the medication, she kept having small, squishy poos, like she was still trying to hold it in but couldn’t quite manage. And she was having several of them a day. Which gave her a horrific rash and woke her up every 15-20 minutes for the first two hours she tried to sleep that night. The rash made wiping painful, which only added to her anxiety, and soon even getting undressed to change into pj’s became a battle. She gets all worked up, cries, pushes away my hands, and flees. It’s hard on me because it makes even the simplest things, like bathing or getting out of the house, nearly impossible, but it’s so much worse on her. My poor baby. I feel so bad for her, and I’m powerless to stop the oozing poo or heal her rash immediately.
When we went back to the nurse today, she recommended increasing the dosage of the laxative, at least until she has a proper poop. She also gave us a cream that should aid in healing her angry red bum, but I’m afraid it won’t happen quickly enough.
And on top of all of this, Hubby has been gone the last two days. He returns tonight, only to turn around and leave again on Monday for a five-day conference. So I’ve been trying to manage a crabby, uncomfortable, traumatized two-year-old on my own, and if the issue isn’t resolved soon, I’ll be doing it again all next week. I hate seeing my little girl in pain, panicked, trembling. I hate that all the comfort I can give isn’t enough. Nothing about that changes when he’s home, except that he feels it, too. Which somehow makes it easier.