Atticus has had recurring bouts of constipation. Back in January, we had to leave a Decemberists concert early due to reports of his non-stop vomiting, which we learned was caused by severe constipation — there was nowhere for his food to go down.
He hates vegetables, so the fiber content of his diet isn’t great. He’s been on Miralax pretty regularly for a looong time. I started a “poop diary” on my calendar so I could track how often he was going, because we never ever wanted him to suffer like he did earlier this year.
So, yesterday I realized he hadn’t pooped since Sunday, and we’d forgotten to give him Miralax for a few days. He was a bit listless when I got home this evening and I could tell he needed to go. We went to the park after dinner and he played for a bit, then slumped over a short wall and just stood there. I thought he was pooping, but I think he was having cramps.
I decided he needed a rectal laxative, a tough decision because he hates it. The first time I tried to give it to him tonight, he whimpered, “You’re hurting me,” something he’s never said before. So I faltered. But later, after his bath, I could see how uncomfortable he was. And it was the “This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you” moment, one of many more to come I’m sure. So my insistence won out, and I reassured him with hugs that the “poop medicine” would help him feel better.
We went through the bedtime routine and read books. It seemed like the laxative was taking longer than it should to kick in; I wasn’t sure if it was going to work. Then, he finally he stiffened and got what I have come to think of as the “pre-poop” out. Nothing surprised me more than when Atticus said, “It’s working!”
About five minutes after that diaper change, the motherlode came, and it wasn’t clearly uncomfortable for him.
But after we cleaned up, he was effusive with thanks. “Thanks for using the plunger to make my poop go down the toilet.” (Yup, it got stuck.) “Thanks for the medicine, Mom. I feel better.”
What a mature response!
