Sadly, I’m not talking about either of my children pooping in their diapers (yes, again, thanks for noting that my son will still not poop on the potty). After reading quite a few poop horror stories online lately, I decided it was high time for me to suck it up and share my own tale of defecatory woe.
In general, I don’t fare well in this department. Let me just going to lay it all out there, dear readers, and admit that I have pooped my pants more times in my 30s than I ever did in all of the rest of my post-diaper days combined. What has happened to me?! I’m going to claim some bizarre result of childbirth as I can pretty much directly correlate my difficulties to my postpartum days. But regardless of the source of my prolific loss of bowel control, my husband is permanently horrified. Which is, of course, a huge motivator for writing this post–it’s kind of just plain fun to watch him squirm. He is astonished (and not in a good way) every time I have an “incident”.
|Source: Microsoft Office ClipArt
Clearly, I can never have too much of this on hand…
While generally a loving and forgiving man, he will never be able to move past the occasion in which he found himself hosing down my capris in our yard immediately post birth of our daughter. Moreover, he will shrivel in humiliation when he realizes I have written this post and sent it out into the blogosphere. I do also realize that, as I type this, our neighbors will now be putting their homes up for sale rather than continue living in the proximity of the crazy people who wash out their poop-laden clothing in the yard. But this story begs to be told.
It started in the hospital, hours after baby girl made her entrance into this world. I was nursing her and then low and behold, I found myself literally throwing my newborn at my husband, screaming “Take her! It’s an emergency!” Would have been better to have not even tried to make it to the bathroom. Within minutes I became known around the maternity unit as being “the lady who DOES NOT need colace”. We had a bit of mess on our hands, and would you believe they actually do not have air fresheners in the hospital?
While I died in mortification, several sharp nurses put their heads together and came up with the idea to coat paper towels with shampoo and lay them over the drain in a hot shower, allowing the steam to permeate the fresh scent throughout the room. It had truly become and all-hands-on-deck situation for the unit. Absolutely doing my part to promote teamwork for the staff.
Though the odor situation was somewhat abated, nothing can extract the image of poop gurgling out of places that it should never, ever be ever. I will stop with the sordid details, but for those of you who have given birth–you know those sweet mesh panties you rock post childbirth? Yeah…you may want to find another alternative should find yourself in a loose stool scenario….
My daughter is now 14 mo. How am I faring in the poop department? I’m proud to report that there have only been a handful more “hospital incidents” as we have so lovingly come to call them. I think this is good news. My husband remains absolutely terrorized.
Where I need to be hanging out…ALL. THE. TIME.
I am not saying that this is normal. But I have tried to explain to my shell-shocked husband that I am not alone with having extreme poop difficulties. I have read of several such instances on other blogs. I vividly remember Kim at Let Me Start By Saying‘s post about trying not to crap herself in an elevator at the BlogHer conference. And who didn’t fall a little more in love with Anna at My Life and Kids when she blogged at In the Powder Room about how she snagged her husband by pooping in her pants? Her post was then followed up with a guest post by Stephanie over at Binkies and Briefcases who shared that poop had played a major role in the evening of her marriage proposal. And my absolutely favorite post on the hot topic of poop is from Pish Posh, when she wrote about the horrors created by some pre-graduation ceremony pizza.
See I’m really not the only one. Lots of people are poop-challenged, really…really. Really?! Tell me I’m not totally crazy or really bite the bullet, my friends, and leave your own poop horror story or link to one below. In the meantime, I will probably just be hanging out on the toilet, trying to avoid a future such incident.