Ode to Poop

I never knew poop could make me so happy, relieved, anxious, scared and confused. Poop has always been pretty straightforward to me. As with so many things, Jack has taken poop to a whole ‘nother level. I think about his poop multiple times a day; I wait for it; I am excited when I see him stop in his tracks and start to push. He’s pooping! The anticipation grows inside of me while I wait for him to finish so that I can unwrap my present to see what he brought me.

I have experienced Jack’s poop with many of my senses. The way it smells. From the nearly odorless exclusively breastfed poops to the stinky spicy food dinner poop. I remember thinking his poop used to smell like popcorn. The way it looks. Various shades of yellow and brown. Mushy, clay-like, lump, gooey, streaky or blotchy. The way it feels. I have smeared it around in his diapers testing the consistency. I have gone so far as to poke my bare finger right into it. I become transfixed.

I am surprised by the level of fear that poop can evoke in me. When was the last time he pooped? Oh god, I hope he poops soon! Are you pooping?! Is it hard? How hard? Too hard? Is it soft? Too soft? What color is it? It’s dark—too dark? Is it supposed to be like that? What does it mean? Is that OK? Why is it so smelly? This one doesn’t smell; why doesn’t it smell? Is he OK?!

When I peel his diaper off, my eyes widen as I eagerly await to see what sort of poop he delivered this time. There are a few seconds of nervous anticipation. What will I find? Will it worry me? I’m worried that what I’ll find will worry me! The surprises are interesting. Oh, that’s right, we had beans last night!

What an emotional rollercoaster.