Do you worry when they cough? Do you worry when they sneeze? Do you worry about the colour their poop was today? Do you worry if they sleep too long? Do you worry when they are too quiet? Do you worry when they’re sick? Do you worry when their skin is dry? Do you worry when you leave the room? Do you worry when they don’t feed for long? Do you worry when they feed too long? Do you worry when they cry? Do you worry when they don’t? Do you worry when they’re in the car? Do you worry when they’re outside? Do you worry about worrying?
One thing being a mum has taught me, if I wasn’t already an insane worrier, I am twice as much as I ever was before!
I legit worry about simply going to the toilet because I think my child is going to die if I’m not watching over him like a hawk. I worry at night when he is being so quiet that I start to convince myself he isn’t breathing… until he farts and I have instant relief – so does he I’m sure. I worry about his feeding habits, why has he only fed for 5 minutes, surely he’s not having enough? Why is he feeding for half an hour, am I over feeding him? Should I take him off so he isn’t sick? Oh crap, too late.
I will never forget the first shower I had after giving birth. I honestly thought I could hear him screaming his head off like someone was murdering him (he was being looked after by Scott downstairs – I’m sure he wouldn’t have been torturing him, unless he had Arsenal on the TV…then that’s pretty torturous) and I had to keep stopping the shower and standing still to listen. Obviously, he wasn’t screaming. He was sleeping like a log the entire time, but my brain was convincing me that he was hysterical.
Sometimes when I’m driving and I have Fletcher in the back seat, I convince myself that he’s suffocated in his car seat back there and I have no idea about it. He isn’t. He loves the car and he’s just simply out for the count. I actually have to turn my music up a little to distract myself from trying to hear him breathing. We like a bit of Sean Paul.
Now that we know Fletcher has Cystic Fibrosis, I’m even worse. He only has to cough or sneeze and I think he’s going to come down with something and die. I’ve been googling what normal baby poop looks like, just so see pictures of other poop to reassure me that his yellow shit is normal (Apparently it is). I absolutely HATE when he is sick. Naturally when anybody is sick, it means they’re unwell right?! Or drunk. But a baby is sick, and it’s normal. When is their sick NOT normal? Fletcher when through a stage of basically bringing up his entire feed, virtually 2-5 minutes after he’d fed. This worried the hell out of me. There was sooo much sick, and it’s so sad to see them puke. Even though it doesn’t phase them in the slightest, you can’t help but feel sorry for them. He’s already puked twice this morning luckily the quantity has reduced so it doesn’t panic me as much, but it still makes me question, is he ok?!
I am honestly awful when it comes to asking for advice from a professional too. I HATE going to the doctor or calling a nurse or something. Because I’m a worrier, I feel like I’m being ridiculous if I ring his CF support nurse and say: “So Fletcher coughed today…. is he ok? Should I bring him in to hospital? Is he sick?” So I say to myself… mate… chill… he just coughed once. I never like to bother people, I like to be sure that it definitely isn’t right before I tell someone about it. Guess I’m a silent worrier. I do all the worrying behind closed doors, to myself and Scott. Scott must think I’m bonkers. I’m the type of person that will always say I feel fine, even if I have a stomach ache or a headache. I was like this throughout my pregnancy. I’d be suffering from back pain and yet I would still work my ass off when at work, making it feel worse as the day goes on. I ended up getting signed off by the doctor for 3 weeks because of back pain. Do you know how difficult it was for me to get the bollocks to actually go to the doctor and tell them about it. Conversation would go as follows with Scott:
Me: “Oh my god, my back is killing me today!” *practically crying with the pain*
Scott: “Have you taken any paracetamol”
Me: “No, it’s fine.”
Scott: ” Well it’s not because you’re obviously upset about it.”
Me: “I just need to slow down at work that’s all”
Scott: “Slow down then. Make people help you.”
Me: ” No I can’t do that, it’s fine.”
Scott: “Well… I don’t know what to say”
Me: “I feel like I should see a doctor”
Scott: ” See one then, they might sign you off if they think you need it.”
Me: “No, I can’t do that, I need to work, we have a huge delivery coming tomorrow”
Scott: “You shouldn’t have to do that, the deliveries are too much”
Me: “Okay, should I go to the doctors then?”
Me: “No it’s silly, I don’t need to be signed off. I’ll be fine.”
Scott: “Just go”
Me: “Should i?”
Scott: ” Yeah.”
Me: “What should I say”
Scott: “That you have back pain.”
Me: “That’s silly, I can’t go to the doctors and just say that. I’m fine, don’t worry.”
Scott: “lace, you’re pregnant.”
Me: ” Yeah I know, so it’s normal to have back pain, I’ll have to put up with it.”
Scott: ” Okay whatever. Just get more help when the heavy stuff needs lifting.”
Me: “Hmmm… maybe I should go to the doctors.”
Yeah… You get the point. I did eventually go to the doctors after gathering together my script of things I was going to say to the doctor so that I didn’t sound like a tit.
I have this dilemma with Fletcher’s CF nurses now. I’m like… “I can’t ring her about a little bit of runny poo. I think it’s normal/ Google says it’s normal.” Scott tells me I’m terrible and that I just need to do it just for confirmation that it is normal, just incase it isn’t. But I think it’s just because my instinct is telling me that he is fine and I’m just being a typical first time mum worrier. I seem to think everything is dangerous signs of cystic fibrosis just because I’m so paranoid about him getting ill. I’m pretty sure I will know for sure when something isn’t right.
I know I’m not the only one, because anytime I google something like “When to worry about baby poo” there are multiple forums of other mums asking the same thing. Even posting pictures of their baby’s poop, to compare with others. It’s not easy being a parent, honestly. When does the worrying end… if it ever does end? Will he be a 20-year-old and I’ll be whatsapping him asking him about his bowel movements? If our relationship ends up anything similar to what I have with my own mum then maybe… my mum knows everything about my bodily fluids and worrying things. That is probably just me though.
Babies are worrying little balls of poop and sick and noises that freak you out. But it’s fine… everything is fine. I just worry about worrying before there is even anything worrying to worry about. You get me?!