The C Word

I need to talk about the potty. Or rather, I need to talk about what’s not happening at the potty. Because what’s not happening at the potty is pooping. And this is a really big freaking problem. Because this time it’s not Little Dude I’m talking about. It’s one of my daughters. And because I would never want to embarrass her, I’m not even going to tell you which kid it is, not even with her blog pseudonym. But here’s the deal: one of my kids is wicked constipated.

This has been a real learning experience for me, because despite the avalanche of weirdness that is my life, this is not anything I’ve ever personally experienced. The only time I’ve ever had this problem is when I got to had to take some prescription pain meds after a minor surgery. As much as I love me some whacktastic prescription oblivion, two days into the pain meds I had all kinds of horrible GI problems that made me never want to eat again.  (I’ve noticed, by the way, that they never mention the pain med – tummy trouble connection on House. You’d think he would need to pop some Dulcolax with those Vicodins.) Anyway, I’m on a steep learning curve with this whole issue.

The first thing I have learned is that no one likes to talk about constipation.  I know full-grown adults who have no problem quoting Mel Gibson’s hateful, obscenity-laden loony trips word for word but they can’t possibly say the word “constipated” out loud. Which is interesting because everything about Mel Gibson is wayyyyy more offensive to me than anything to do with actual fecal matter. (Mel Gibson is, I think, only figurative fecal matter.)

The other thing I’ve learned is that mothers of kids over the age of three only talk about their children’s poop in whispers, like it’s too awful or embarrassing for their normal “indoor voice.” It’s funny because moms of newborns absolutely adore talking about their babies’ poop, so much so that they’ll show you their babies’ poop journals as easily as they’ll show you the brag book of photos. Infant baby mamas constantly fret over the frequency, consistency, and above all, color of their babies’ poops. There are entire forums on the internet dedicated to the topic. Pediatricians have pre-printed hand-outs about baby poop because it is so all-important to newborn baby mamas.

Once those babies are about three years old though, the poop conversation dies out. Moms of two- and three-year-olds will talk about potty-training. Once the kid is four, you stop talking about it, because either: a) potty-training is done, or b) potty-training is not done. Either way, the topic becomes closed for discussion.

This is probably not going to come as a shock to any of you, but I’m pretty comfortable talking about all kinds of insane stuff. This comes from having both a tremendous need to not go completely off the deep end vent and a deep desire to learn from other people’s wisdom. So I’ve been going around asking other moms if their kids have ever had problems with constipation. The answer is a resounding yes. And once that little Band-Aid is ripped off, years of embarrassment, guilt, and worry come pouring forth. Really, Oprah should do a whole show about it. The episode would be called “Shattering the Secrecy: Mothers with Constipated Baby Disorder.” Actually, never mind. How annoying would that be? Dr. Phil would be on there explaining to the mommies that their children’s constipation was probably the result of their permissive parenting style, and Dr. Oz would just go on and on about adding more roughage. Ugh.

But back to talking to other moms. In my completely scientific and statistically sound study, two out of any five moms have at least one kid who’s had a major constipation problem. I don’t mean the kind where the kid had one hard poop after eating too many string cheese sticks. I mean the kind of problem that requires some sort of intervention. Miralax seems to be every pediatrician’s go-to problem-solver. We’re trying that here and I have to tell you, five months into it, we’re still not seeing a huge improvement. We’ll be seeing our pediatrician to talk about Next Steps. I’m pretty nervous about that because Next Steps involve prescription medications and (gasp) enemas. (By the way? If you ever really want to end a conversation, just say the word “enema.” It makes people even more uncomfortable than the word “constipation.”)

But these Next Steps are really important because if there's one thing I learned from the classic medical text Everyone Poops it's that pretty much all living creatures have an imperative to get rid of waste. And if people, and especially children, don’t get rid of waste, they become cranky, tired, sick, and fecally impacted, not necessarily in that order.

My mommy friends have been telling me horror stories about constipation that involve trips to the emergency room.  I have heard tales of "home poopers" and kids who would only poop at Target.  There are many kids being bribed to poop.  You wouldn't think it would be necessary to bribe a person to do a natural bodily function, but sometimes it is.  I have heard sweet potatoes described as "the Roto-Rooter of vegetables."  And it was considered praise.