Well, last night the hubs and I attempted to sleep in the same room as the baby…all three of us together instead of the 4 hours shifts staying up with her that we’d done the previous two nights. (Worked awesome, BTW (we got 5-6 hours of sleep at a stretch) but not really an option once he goes back to work on Monday.)

We went to bed around 2ish. Abby was due for a feeding at 4:30.

Wait…let me pause here to also add this tidbit. Abby’s butt was backed up for a good 36 hours, until last night when she had an awesome poop on her own. (Yep – I called poop awesome. I’m done for.) We were just about to use the ol’ lubed up thermometer on her booty when she did it all by herself. I thought – yay! The path had been cleared, now back to regularly scheduled pooping. Not so much. She hasn’t pooped since then, and she’s CLEARLY trying to finagle some out of her little body but it’s not working.

Back to the story at hand. We went to bed, and Abby WAS asleep…and then started grunting and fidgeting and doing all sorts of sounds and aerobic tricks to work her poop out (or so I assume). Did I sleep? Maybe…if dozing for 3 minutes and waking up to look at her is called sleeping. Finally at 4am I changed her diaper and fed her her bottle, and headed back to bed. She was SOUND asleep…and started up with it all over again. By 5:30 or so, the hubs woke up and asked if I’d slept. I gave it an honest “I don’t know” and he got up with her to change her diaper again and get her settled in the living room so I could sleep. I kept insisting that she’s trying to poop, he thinks she’s just making typical baby noise. So, he took her in the living room and I cried. (Of course, I had also just had a brief dream that I “tried again” with a new Abby who’s intestines worked correctly but ended up having weird deformed hands instead. That probably didn’t help in the crying department.)

Today is a new day.

Also…Abby spit up for the first time last night. And I’m not ashamed to say it freaked me the fuck out. (Pardon my french…sailor’s mouth is too easy when you’re sleep deprived.) We had just fed her a GIGANTIC feeding which I know is to blame…we let her sleep too long and she was starving so my brilliance decided, YES! Let’s give her nearly a whole ounce more than she usually eats!

Anyway, maybe it was the trick in getting her to finally poop on her own, because she did shortly after downing that bottle, but then promptly spit up after I had just changed her entire outfit since she’d peed on herself. It was no biggie to me, until she did it again, but MUCH more. And then I got scurred.

I know it’s just baby barf, and I didn’t mind it for the most part, but I just have this thing with barf. I cannot watch another human being vomit. It makes me get shaky and I get nervous and scared of having to watch it again. It probably stems back to when my cousins and I got dropped off at the movie theater when we were young, and one of my cousins ate like 3,495,751 sour patch kids or something and didn’t feel good. In my young, trying to be an adult mind, I thought – HERE! Put your head on my totally rad leather jacket with fringe I was given as a first communion gift! And then….BARF. All up in that fringe. I’m pretty sure I cried for days about that one. I took it to the bathroom and tried to clean it up, it was dry cleaned, but never was the same again.

Anywho, I was scared to feed her again. But she’s eaten 3 bottles since sans spit up so that’s good, but has added the “gagging face” to her repertoire of sleep faces that immediately makes me hide under her burp cloth.

And all that was just Tuesday.