The Poop Scoop

WARNING: This entry has graphic details about things that came out of my son’s butt. If you are at all squeamish about bodily functions, do not read any further.



Seriously. Come back tomorrow.



I mean it.



Okay, you asked for it. Q has poop issues. The poor little guy has been constipated pretty much since he started eating solid foods – last January. We were completely baffled when the problem started, because he was on the all fiber and breast milk diet. Breast milk is a natural laxative, so his difficulties were a real puzzle. I made enough milk to feed small third world countries, so it wasn’t an issue of dehydration, either.

Eventually, after his poor little abused sphincter started bleeding because he was pooping ROCKS, I consulted the pediatrician. He suggested glycerin suppositories (been there, done that. No luck), prune juice, apple sauce, and pureed prunes. Failing the dietary changes, he suggested giving Milk of Magnesia in increasing doses until we got the poop soft and kept it soft. I made a calendar to keep track of his excretion schedule.

Even following this regimen, Q was only pooping once or twice per week. When he did poop, he did this heart-breaking poopy dance and wailed as if his heart (or butt) was breaking. We had been using the Milk of Mag hardcore for about six weeks and had added Benefiber to pretty much every beverage that went in his mouth when we finally got him on a decent non-painful schedule.

Then he got pneumonia.

The infection and/or the antibiotics gave him the trots, so we quit all poop-softening rituals. After he recovered, we were pleased to note that he seemed to be doing okay with only the prune juice and Benefiber. Yay!

Then when I took him in for his flu shot on Tuesday, he did the poopy dance and squeezed out a hiney-ripper of a turd. Poor little guy! This was the first time that the doc had witnessed exactly how much distress Q was really in when he pooped. He pretty much told us to give him Milk of Mag until the end of time. So we got back on our all fiber and Milk of Mag routine.

He hadn’t pooped in a couple of days, but I didn’t think anything of it, as he often goes days between stinkers. He hadn’t been sleeping through the night and when he woke up, I could hear him making grunt-y pushy noises. I knew he needed to go, but he had pooped on Tuesday, so I wasn't really worried. He was a little crabby after we got to the ranch, but then he didn’t sleep in the truck and he is often out of sorts when we travel.

By that afternoon, I just didn’t know what to do with him. He wanted to be held but cried when I picked him up. Nothing made him happy. Finally, he started doing the poopy dance and I got a clue. Oh, he needs to poop! He swayed and cried and I rubbed his back and his belly… for a really long time. I kept checking his diaper, but he was making no deposits. After a while, my abs hurt from sympathy pushing!

Finally, I checked his pants and could see a little turtle sticking out its head. In a move only a mom could make, I reached in a pulled his little cheeks apart and a tiny little poop came out. On the next push, I could see there was a giant poop in there, but it couldn’t come out. My god, it looked like it was going to rip him in two!

Luckily, I was in a hunting household and there were lots of surgical gloves around (for cleaning game). So I snapped some on and took Q to the changing table. I was going in.

I was horrified by my little boy’s cries of pain and anguish as well as the train-sized poo trying to exit his rectum. It looked like something out of a birthing video. I guess there is no limit to what a mother will do for her child because I took my gloved hand and squeezed the muscles around his butthole.

This was a thing nightmares are made of. It was like popping the most disgusting zit in the universe. A giant plug of rock hard poop was followed by a man-sized dookie that was easily a foot long. But wait! He wasn’t finished. He did two more giant poops before we could even get the first one cleaned up. He must have produced at least two pounds of sh!t. I’m pretty sure he was pushing so hard that he had pushed out part of his colon.

Before the day was over, he had produced two more overflowing diapers. Good god! Where did he put it all? He must have had poop backed up to his uvula.

Interestingly, once he was finally cleared out, he ate like a linebacker. He must have been feeling pretty empty.

This morning his rear looked like it had been through a war, but he was in much better spirits. Until it was time to poop again. He was all, “There is no way I am letting anything pass through my abused rear exit!” But eventually the prune juice and Cracklin’ Oat Bran prevailed.

The good news? I could totally identify everything in his poop, so now I know he is completely cleared out. The bad news? My brain needs an enema to rid it of the horrific image of poopzilla exiting Q’s backside.