We think the high calorie diet the NICU concocts to fatten up the babes is difficult to digest. Our poor little baby is struggling hard to process all his weight-gaining goodness. And he has apparently decided the entire NICU staff should accompany him on this journey.
Recently, Logan has started to wail when his tummy hurts. It is heartbreaking to see him crying and not be able to fix it. He’ll scrunch up his little face, turn his head up to the side, hold his breath and try. Sometimes putting him on his tummy and rubbing his back helps calm him down a bit. I know when my tummy hurts I prefer to be curled up face down in the fetal position.
Now that we’ve moved down on the calories, Logan’s feeling a bit better. He’s still not pooping to his preferred potential, but he’s finding some relief. Logan is now gaseous. And Logan is potent.
Back when the boys still lived in closed isolettes, we arrived one morning to find Logan sans blanket. “I just couldn’t keep him covered when it smelled like that in there,” she apologized. Popular opinion at the time was that his apnea was due to Logan holding his breath to avoid the foul odiferous fumes generated by his gastrointestinal discomfort. We all laughed – assuming our nurse was joking.
Now Logan is much bigger. He is beginning to resemble a football due to the size of his stomach (one of his nurses also suggested he may bear resemblance to a frog). Last night, Jon was holding Logan while he struggled with his tummy troubles. Suddenly the nurse on the opposite end of the pod exclaimed, “Oh. My. God! Is that ALL Logan?!”
And it wasn’t even a poop. Just gas. Several times we’ve changed his diaper because there HAD to be something in there.
Whoever said newborn poops didn’t start to smell bad until they started eating big kid food was seriously misinformed. Perhaps this is our little ones revenge on the NICU for having to eat the sludge.
At the very least, I know Logan feels better when he toots because every one, big or small, is followed by a mischievous little grin.
Visitors be forewarned. When you come to meet the muppets, you will be visiting a house with two small formula-added babies and two large plum-eating dogs. Enter at your own risk.