C.C. is passed out in front of me, all scrunched up in her car seat under a blanket that is slightly more fragrant than I'd like it to be, wearing a long sleeve shirt on this warm summer day and newborn pants that don't really fit.
This was not the outfit I put her in before we left the house today.
No, the other one matched. It fit. It was goddamn adorable, okay?
Then I took her to see the doctor.
Everything was going swell at her two month appointment. She was smiling and cooing at the doc. I was told developmentally she's doing spectacularly and she's growing like a weed. Yes, everything was going along swimmingly until...
Until she got her foot caught under the protective paper on the exam table and it scared the holy hell out of her and she began screaming at the top of her lungs for a good five minutes straight until I was able to finally calm her down. Five torturous minutes where the doctor looked at my baby and me like one of us had sprouted another head.
That was fun.
But wait! There's more.
Then they gave her the two month vaccines. Then she screamed bloody murder for a good fifteen minutes because they stuck needles in her tender thighs. Chubby baby thighs suitable for snacking on, not sticking sharp things into.
FOUR freaking needles. In my sweet baby's adorably chubby, very tasty, extremely sensitive, thighs.
As if the screaming and the crying and the gulping of air - because the hysteria, oh my Christ, the hysteria - wasn't enough, I had the brilliant idea to try to nurse her to calm her down.
Well, what would you have done?
My sweet, chubby, tasty, high sensitive and now hysterical baby decided that screaming was easier without a tit in her mouth so she screamed whilst trying to gulp down a very strong gush of milk, until she finally tore her wee head away, letting fly a gusher-like stream of breast milk that would make the caretakers of the fountains at the Bellagio proud, and in her own way told me to GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME, YOU CRAZY BITCH. LET ME SCREAM. Better yet, LET ME DIE.
And just when I was about to call to the doctor to get a sedative - for me - C.C. got eerily silent and...
Projectile vomited all over the exam room.
Think Linda Blair, but cuter.
Fortunately, I came prepared so I had a burp cloth and a bib in my free hand and was ready to catch any spit up. Unfortunately, this was not spit up and the flimsy material could do nothing to stop the gusher of spew.
Meanwhile, during the screaming and the thrashing and the choking and the crying and the hurling, Chicky was dancing around the room, standing on chairs, crawling on the sink, yelling for crackers and water and stickers and CAN WE GO HOME NOW?? I WANT TO GO HOME NOW. I WANT TO GO HOME. RIGHT. NOW!!!
Indeed, can we go home now?
Uh uh uhhh, not so fast.
First I had to clean up the floor, then I had to clean up the baby, then I had to hose down my hands and arms, and then I had to go rummaging around my humongous bag for a fresh set of baby clothes that apparently I packed when C.C. was four days old.
My apologies to the nurse who had to clean up the rest so I could get my children the hell out of there before someone mistakenly called the proper authorities because they thought they heard hara-kiri going on in the next room.
That was three hours ago and C.C. has been passed out ever since. She smells and her clothes don't fit and the blanket she's laying under is kind of gooey, but she's sleeping peacefully and she will wake with no memory of the torture her mother and doctor put her through.
I, however, am wondering if it's too early to submerge myself in a vat of gin.
And don't even get me started on what happened while Chicky was supposed to be sleeping in her room just now. It involves fecal matter and I just don't want to go there.
Make that an extra large vat of gin.
OMG, that was the laugh I needed today. Projectile baby vomit--something I suffered through with both of my babes as apparently my boobs have the letdown force of a firehose.
ReplyDeleteI remember those days and those tiny little cubicles, containment versus crush!
ReplyDeleteBest wishes
Yep. So today I dealt with my exploded car, took Claire to Childrens and Charlotte is screaming her way through a therapy session as we speak.
ReplyDeleteSERENITY NOW. Or wine. Wine will do.
The Bug projectile pooped all over the WIC office at about that same age. Fun times. Or, y'know, NOT.
ReplyDeleteGin. Gin is good. Hell, some days, I'd drink NyQuil straight.....
Just keep reminding yourself that it will get better! It will get better.
ReplyDeleteEvery day it's getting easier... make it your mantra!
I'm sorry Chicky, that sucks! Last time I went to the Ped I didn't even bring the diaper bag and the baby filled his diaper so I had to ask them for one. I looked like a blue ribbon mom and kept praying he wouldn't pee himself during the check up since I had NO clothes with me at all. The day has to get better from here, right?
ReplyDeleteSounds like our 2 month appt last week..... Madi also screamed like Holy hell for a good fifteen minutes... actually was still screaming when we left. I think now at #3 though i know better than to try and calm them at the MD office, I just let her squall until we hit the car and then she was out like a light.
ReplyDeleteAs for the projectile vomit thing, Madi likes to do that too... she hasn't out in public yet, but I have been amazed at the range of things she can manage to hit in my living room!
Wow. That is some day!
ReplyDeleteYou just reminded me that I had an experience like that. . .maybe involving vomit. . .with one of the kids. . .but, my brain has since healed itself over that scar and can no longer remember the details. That is the beauty of the passage of time.
But, gin will certainly work a little more quickly.
Instead of a vat of gin go for a swimming pool sized margarita - much tastier!
ReplyDeleteSounds pretty par for the course when it comes to taking two kids in for a doctor visit. I now avoid it at all costs, which still means they both come along 95% of the time.
ReplyDeleteIt's rough stuff - these first few months with two. But it's true - it will get better. Robby is almost a year old now and when I think back to what you are going through right now I really feel for you. But you will get through it, seriously. You'll get into a groove. You'll still have awful days, like when you have to go to the doctor, but eventually the days in between will work themselves out...
Oh, lordy - it's all coming back to me now. It's amazing what we forget, huh? I'm getting a particularly vivid memory of flying on a commuter plane with Pepper at 8 months and having her repeatedly, gushing vomit as we were landing. Then I got to walk out of the plane, across the tarmac, and into the tiny airport, where there was no where to put her down. I think we ended up spreading a coat across the top of a big waste receptacle and cleaning her up right there in the waiting area.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I'm glad THAT'S over with.
is it warm where you are? then you deserve an ice cold margarita today! aah projectile vomit, had that yesterday from monkey.
ReplyDeleteOh you poor thing! I've got two who are 2 3/4 years apart, so I get to do the two at the dr. appt. deal, but it's never been that bad.
ReplyDeleteMake it a HUMONGOUS van of gin, STAT!
You're making my teenagers seem EASY!
ReplyDeleteThanks for that. I know that's what you were shooting for. (No vomit pun intended, o'course)
What Binkytown said. Hell, I've brought Oliver - my third child - to the doc without remembering to pack a dipe. It's a surefire way to get a constipated kid to poop.
ReplyDeleteI hope you're well into your martini or G&T by now.
I passed out while reading this and when I awoke I cried. This is why I was a hermit in the early days - incidents like this would make me run for the hills. Now I'm running over to the LCBO to have two gallons of gin shipped to you stat.
ReplyDeleteOh, I've had quite the day too (my two older ones are both sick - yee haw!).
ReplyDeleteLike Julie, I often forget the diaper bag completely (poor third kids). So, I was going to commend you on having that many supplies on hand!
I love your sense of humor.
Ouch, that's one rough day. At least the doctor saw C.C. cooing and smiling beforehand, so there's no doubt she's healthy and well cared for. I'm sure that's not the first time they've seen a kid flip out over getting shots (who wouldn't?).
ReplyDeleteKeep saying to yourself: "Doctors have seen it all..."
ReplyDeleteAs the kids have gotten older and worse(r), I find it best to haul it out of there with a few words of 'really, it's in everyone's best interest that we. leave. now.'
In my mind, it leaves them wondering what "worse" might look like and thankful that we're gone, despite the carnage left behind.
Yo. You, my darling, wrote one of the few newborn posts that I've ever read out loud to Mr. Hot.
ReplyDeleteHe laughed. Consider that the highest form of praise.
I'm on it. Bombay Sapphire or Seagram's?
ReplyDeleteI remember that. I REMEMBER THAT.
ReplyDeleteSix weeks. Six weeks for the horror to die down to a dull banging roar in the back of my head and THREE YEARS until I could walk in the drs office without the nurse stiffening slightly when she spotted my son.
Does 7-11 sell margarita slurpees?
WHY NOT?
Oh wow. That is one helluva day.
ReplyDeleteAs they say, tomorrow can only get better, right?
Oh man, I have had those days, where just everything seems to go wrong. My 2 yr. had a fecal incident, where she smeared it all over her crib, walls and everything within reach. I was so furious. All it took was 1 good spanking session for that to never happen again. Good luck with everything, just make sure when your hubby comes home that you get to go have some "me" time. That helps a lot!
ReplyDeleteoh wow. oh no. oh babe.
ReplyDeleteoh, honey. I had one doctor's visit that involved Pumpkinpie peeing all over me - I hadn't thought to bring extra clothes for ME. These are the times we get through and they make us laugh later - but not til MUCH later! Sorry that was your day - I hope tomorrow is all sunshine and puppies.
ReplyDeleteThank god you can laugh about it now. Bet there wasn't much laughing at the time. I remember being in a store when my son was 2 and he was sick in his pushchair, all over his clothes, the toys he was grabbing, the pushchair, the floor. In my cheek-burning embarassment, no one came to my aid. I was there with the two remaining wipes I had left in my bag trying to clean up the mess while son (now purged of the gunk that was making him feel ill) will trying to leap out of his pushchair and play.
ReplyDeleteI can laugh about it now - 3 years on!
Crying, breastfeeding, projectile vomiting, fecal matter.
ReplyDeleteWhere, oh where would mommyblogging be without these pillars?
Hopefully, you found the gin.
I'm cracking up at Scifi dad's comment!
ReplyDeleteBut I do feel for you - that sounds spectactularly sucky.
Ah, the lovely stories you'll have for them when they're grown. It's all about payback, really.
ReplyDeleteI remember those days only I got to go through them with twins! Who were both very forceful projectile vomiters for months. It was fun, to say the least. I actually got puked on from behind in the car one time. And he was facing away from me. Ask me how that happens? Anyone got a physics lesson that will explain that one cause I'm still trying to figure it out. And guess what else? I just found out today I'm preggers again. Wish me luck that this one comes in singles...hehe
ReplyDeleteThank goodness you have a blog so you can vent to the rest of us, the moms who understand! And thank goodness you still have fabulous shoes on your header. :)
ReplyDeleteThe way you told that was great... hopefully tomorrow will be better.
ReplyDeleteHoly hell woman. What a nightmare. Props to you for even attempting to clean up the vomit. I hope you got to that vat of gin--with an IV to help it kick in a little faster. Here's to a vomit- and fecal-art-free tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteI'm WAY behind on my blogreading but you CRACK me up. I hope you bathed for a long time in that vat of gin - you deserved it!
ReplyDeleteThis stage is short-term
ReplyDeleteThis stage is short-term
This stage is short-term...
Keep saying it.
Oh honey... Please excuse my snorts. They are meant not in jest, but in a BTDT way.
ReplyDeleteI remember our pediatrician stepping back and commenting that I sure had my hands full but everything was going to be all right. Needless to say, it was a BAD exam day, too.
With respect is your doctor a total asshole? Seriously about 500 times I thanked god for a similar experience since it led to my doctor completely dressing me down for giving a shit about how ANYTHING looks.. when I had a two month old baby.
ReplyDeleteAnd I will add.. I went out of my way to not attempt two kids at the doctor unless Daddy took the time to come.
You iz one doin' it mama!
Dear god, I would have left the mess on the floor - and yes, I've been there. It's been a while, but I've been there too. And gin would've totally helped. I guess that's the lovely thing about hindsight, huh? :)
ReplyDeleteHang in there mama, it does get better!
Read "The Vaccine Book" by Dr Sears and, from now on, spread those vaccines out. Four shots at once is TOO many! Did you know that one of those shots was the DTap that contains three vaccines in one shot? That means your precious little two month old just got SIX vaccines all at once. And if she got the oral Rotavirus, also, then make that SEVEN. Way too much for such a tiny immune system...
ReplyDeletePlease consider looking at Dr Sears' very informative (and truly unbiased) book. It's not too late to modify your vax schedule. You DO have a choice!
BTW- Her 4 month appt will be just as many vaccines and the 6 month one will add even one more. That makes EIGHT vaccines all attacking the immune system at once. This is when parents will sometimes first notice a "change" in their baby's health or personality...it's just too much...
Please look into "The Vaccine Book" before her next well baby visit. Even if you don't make a single change, at least you will be informed on what is being injected into your child and the side effects that can occur from them.