Three days passed and nothing. Gina started to worry about the welfare of Murray. So we began to talk about what we should do.
Baby constipation is no joke. Three days for an adult is a long time, let alone a baby. Up to this point Gina and I were used to several poopies a day, so when he had not gone for three we became a little worried.
We did not freak out, but it was dissappointing every time we changed his diaper and did not see poop. Honestly I don’t think I have ever look forward to seeing poop until then. Its funny what parents get excited about in the beginning – pooping, puking, burping, farting, peeing – all signs that everything is working internally.
So when Gina and I were brainstorming what to do about Murray’s constipation. We began to ask questions rather than panic. The result is a lot of potty talk around the table. I don’t know about your family, but potty talk at the table is a regular occurrence. My brother-in-law says it is because we are all experts at it and no one can argue with our perspective. As if they know what really happens when we potty.
It was a Saturday night, I was at work, and Gina went and bought the goods for Murray’s defecating stimulation. She said that she was going to her mom’s for moral support. As I was cleaning at the coffee shop, I receive a picture message from Gina with the evidence of Murray’s newfound freedom. I opened the phone in normal anticipation of receiving a text msg, and come to find it is a picture msg, even more exciting. Then it was a picture of Murray’s poop filled diaper – I was a proud father to the say the least. Joy overwhelmed my heart because my son was able to poop, and I know he was feeling more FREE. It was a subtle experience of redemption for our family.
I told this story with some friends at lunch – here it is again potty talk at the table – and they were were laughing hysterically because this story was my response to the question, “How have you seen God?”
Today was the first Midwife visit for Gina, Murray (we are having a boy!), and I. It was unusual from the beginning. We thought the appointment was at the end of the month but someone called to confirm an appointment for today. Also, when we got there, the office for the midwife was in an apartment building down town Baltimore. You can assume what I was thinking… “we are going to have a back-ally baby, what are thinking!” We walk into the office, or should I say apartment, and the wall is cluttered with happy family pictures with their new baby, hopefully taken with the families that birthed them.
The people were real confused of why we were there and thought that they screwed up big time because they did not have us down to visit today. However they managed to squeeze us in for an appointment. When we left the office, literally minutes later as we were pondering how the appointments got messed up, another Midwife calls and asks why we did not show up for our appointment… OOPS!
Anyway, as we were talking with the midwife in the office we asked about birthing tubs. So we asked how the baby does not drowned in the water when it comes out – she said, “We pick it up out of the water”… I thought -dah! She went on to explain that the baby does not take its first breath until they suck the mucus out of its mouth so when the air is available it will take its FIRST breath. How cool is that, even though Murray is alive and well inside Gina, I will see him take his first breath, I will see creation climax and yet begin at the same time. That is pretty gnarly!
Another little fact that I learned was that African Americans have more stretchy skin than white people, thus making childbirth a little more easier, interesting.
