When my husband and I found out we were pregnant for the first time, we were filled with such unbridled joy. We felt as if every moment of our life had led us here. We found our purpose at last! Our future suddenly looked so vastly different than the one we had planned and we embraced it!
We truly didn’t worry about the future. My husband has always been good with kids and I have spent my entire life helping to take care of children. I was the oldest of eleven cousins and I babysat most of them. A few weeks before I gave birth, I had this moment of weird clarity. I literally bolted out of bed in a panicked state. I had changed diapers before but never had I changed a poopy one!
I felt this moment of dread. I realized I was completely inadequate to parent and I have a weak stomach. I also realized that it’s not just a couple of dirty diapers here or there, it’ll be like multiple times a day for approximately two and a half to three years! The future felt grim.
It was a silly fear. Parenting came as natural as did cleaning up messes that I never thought were possible. When I gave birth to my second daughter, I really thought I’d seen everything and I mean everything. I was wrong!
When my youngest was about two and a half, we went through a season of birthday parties. Every weekend, we were invited here and there to other children’s birthday parties. Buying fancy cupcakes from privately owned bakeries was just the rage and every party, had a beautiful platter of the most delicious cupcakes I have ever seen and tasted.
I would usually split one with my youngest daughter. I had noticed that the dense chocolate used in the cake, would often time give her runny diarrhea of a dark nature. I started only giving her a few small bites if it was chocolate. Something, in these designer cupcakes, was causing an allergic reaction. My oldest daughter had no such problems. Finally, at the last birthday party we went to, I opted to not let her have any at all. I took her away from the cupcakes so she couldn’t see. I refrained from having one myself and she didn’t seem to notice. Or so I thought.
As I had my back turned speaking to another mom, she wandered up to the cupcake table and my friend promptly handed her a big chocolate cupcake. By the time I realized it, she had eaten three quarters of it. That night, she seemed fine. She assured me her tummy felt okay and I decided to not worry about it. The following morning, we took the kids to church and went over to my parents for Sunday dinner. Still, my daughter was perfectly fine. She was in the process of potty-training and proudly took herself to the bathroom all on her own.
We’re in the living room with my parents, when we hear. “Mommy, I need help. I pooped on the floor.”
Uh oh! Okay, these things happen when you’re a parent. My Mom, the best grandma in the world, offers to help. She opens up the bathroom door and silently comes out with the strangest expression on her face.
“Um, you guys have to come see this. I’m not exactly sure what’s happened.”
We immediately rush down the hallway and open the bathroom door. What greets us is a mess I still can’t quite put into words. To this day, I’ve never been able to explain how or what happened. There is a pile of black tar, the equivalent to that meconium newborns pass, splattered all over the floor. It is splattered clear up the wall, nearly to the ceiling. It is splattered all up the front of the toilet and covering the base boards of the sink. It has splattered onto the side of the bathtub.
“Honey, are you okay?” I gasp out.
She smiles at us. “I had to poo-poo really bad!”
My Mom quickly scoops her up. “I’ll take care of her, you just deal with the bathroom.”
My husband and I get to work in a state of utter confusion. It doesn’t even smell or look like poop. The consistency isn’t even poop-like and we’ve seen about every kind of poop possible. It takes us a good hour, to scour and sanitize everything. When we at last, trudge out of the bathroom in a state of disgust. My mom is on the floor playing with the kids and silently chuckling to herself.
In all her years as a parent, she has never seen anything remotely like that and neither have we. I have never come across a mess that rivals that day. My daughter, by the way, is perfectly healthy. She has never developed any food allergies and we were never able to pin-point exactly what was in those cupcakes that caused her such issues. She does avoid chocolate cupcakes though.
Whenever I see a new parent struggling under the weight of a messy diaper or a completely soiled outfit, I just smile and offer support if I can. After the cupcake explosion, there is no mess that I can’t handle.
