Last week – last Thursday, to be precise – there was a weird occurrence in our household. The baby shat something that looked like it had been attacked by an over-zealous server at Olive Garden, fresh ground pepper everywhere. It wasn’t pepper, it wasn’t blood, and our doctor asked us to come in.
I guess he doesn’t like talking about poop on the phone any more than I enjoy writing about it.
C3 is fine. She has no temperature, no repeats of the peppery poop, and no diarrhea. However, knowing how we battled against salmonella we offered up several samples of the little one’s stool to check for a myriad of diseases. And the verdict? Girlfriend has salmonella and c-diff.
As in, what the. We’re going to a pediatric gastro gal next week. Our doctor, whom I like very much, is scratching his balding head. She hasn’t been on antibiotics, so how does she have c-diff? And since she does have c-diff, why isn’t she showing signs of c-diff? In the meantime, we’re treating with probiotics. The state lab is doing testing to determine what form of salmonella we’ve got still growing inside my daughter. And yet, we’re still slowly introducing solid food in the form of purees, made by yours truly. She’s had apple and sweet potato so far, and liked each one with a growing intensity.
Meanwhile, I am scared. And worried. And beating myself up. Should I not have let her play with that raw chicken last week? In all seriousness, I can’t stop thinking that if I hadn’t stopped breastfeeding so early none of this would be happening. K keeps reminding me that most babies don’t kick salmonella at eight weeks all by their lonesome, and that my ten day supply of breast milk must have been magic. I think C3 is magic.
It’s not like she’s struggling in the growth department – hello, 19.5 pounds and 26 inches at nearly 16 weeks. But, if you say a prayer – say a few that we can fix up her gut for good.