There are few universal truths in mom life: it's never what you thought it would be like, no one sleeps, and it's gross. Most of us expect motherhood to be full of amazing, magical moments, and don't get me wrong, it is. But it's also full of vomit, drool, spit-up, blood, snot, urine, and, well, poop. There's so much poop, you guys. Ask any mom, and they will likely be able to recall, without hesitation, their most horrifying poop story. Every single one, and if they claim they can't, they are full of sh*t (pun intended).
Of course, it's not entirely the babies' fault. I mean, most of us have pregnancy poop horror stories, too. Mine involves vomit and poop. It seems supremely unfair that I had hyperemesis gravidarum — extreme nausea and vomiting — during my last two pregnancies, and the medicine I needed to function made me so constipated that I didn't poop for days. No amount of stool softeners or laxatives would help. I even started worrying I would have to got to the ER for help. Believe me, you don't really understand shame until you have to ask your husband to bring you a spoon in the bathroom to help things along. Then, there was postpartum pooping. No one really tells you how horrible it is. But before you know it, you're begging the postpartum nurse for a suppository and searching for the nearest restroom so you sh*t your pants.
But this isn't about us moms, dear reader. We get enough crap (literally and figuratively) as it is. Oh no, this is about our babies. Our disgusting, poop-filled babies. Honestly, by the time I had to deal with diaper blow outs and my baby pooping in the bathtub, you would think that I would have been less squeamish, but then the baby used poop for finger paint, had diarrhea down my chest, and I caught her eating her own feces. And these things all happened before potty training and stomach viruses. Parenthood is not for the faint of heart, my friends, or for the weak of stomach.
If you already have kids, you know how gross parenthood can be, and if you are expecting, you might want to read on to find out what you are getting yourself into. Because it's poop. You are about to deal with poop. So much poop.
"I will never forget [my husband] changing our newborn baby's diaper. He had her on the bed with her rear end chest high. He picked up her legs, and like a super-soaker, she shot so much liquid poop dead at his chest. I'll never forget running into the room after his screams to see him covered in mustard yellow baby sh*t."
"After a long day with my 1- and 2-year-old, I was just about to hop into the bath and afterward crawl into my freshly made bed with the two sleeping kids. That's when I heard the screaming. I ran into the room, and my 2-year-old had covered himself, arms, legs, tummy, and even his little sister, in poop while he was sleeping. It was even in his mouth. Needless to say, he had the bath instead that night. I still gag a little thinking about it."
"This morning I️ went into my baby's room at 4:45 a.m. to feed her. As soon as I️ walked through the door, the smell hit me. I️ knew as I️ picked up my sweet, precious baby that she was covered in sh*t. And covered she was. Her pajamas were soaked, and the poop was all the way up her back. I️ stripped her, wiped her off, and took her straight to the bathtub."
"The time we were on a beach in Wales on holiday, and my son came running over to me telling me he'd found 'treasure' digging in the sand with a dog turd in his hand. I snatched it out of his hand and threw it into the sand dunes. He cried because I'd thrown away his 'treasure.' I felt like such an arsehole, but, instinct, and 'argh, my baby is holding dog poo' took over my brain and made my body react."
"I was at a family member's super-fancy home. I went to change my daughter in their bathroom on the floor rug. I got her all cleaned up and went to grab the new diaper to put under her, and I didn't have one in the outside pouch. I started to unzip the inside, and she started pooping. I had to drop everything and let her poop in my hands. I was silently screaming the whole time."
"My boys are 19 months apart. When they were small, they were so sneaky and destructive. One Saturday morning, when they were toddlers and still in diapers, my eldest son sh*t in his night diaper. He woke quite early (probably because of aforementioned bowel movement), and stealthy as can be, snuck into the kitchen, where he proceeded to pull daddy's cherished antique maps from a poster tube and used them as a paintbrush. For what, you ask? For his poo. He painted my entire kitchen in feces. The whole thing. I cried. A lot. I gagged. A lot. There was vomiting. I had a hard time sleeping again, until they were old enough to be trusted to stay in bed past 4:00 a.m. It's been nearly 20 years, and that moment still haunts my dreams."
"One evening when my son was about 2, we had a major poop episode. I was upstairs on the computer, and he was in the playroom. I went to check on him, and as I walked into the playroom, the smell hit me. He had a wipe in his hand, and I asked what he was doing. He replied, 'I clean!' He was so proud. Then I saw what he was cleaning.
There was diarrhea everywhere. He had taken off his diaper and pooped on the floor and walked across the room (I know this because he left poopy footprints on the carpet) and had painted the TV, toys, the couch, and the wall with his excrement. It. Was. Everywhere. I immediately picked him up and held him at arms length and ran to the tub. Poop had squished up between his toes. It was awful. I have pics. I don’t know why, but I photographed the entire scene."
"My second was 5- or 6 months-old, and he had been in the Exersaucer on the other side of our kitchen island while I prepared dinner. I kept getting whiffs of sh*t so I figured I had better investigate, and I found him covered in poop. It was awful. I turned dinner off, got him out of the Exersaucer, and put him in the shower. He sprayed sh*t everywhere — up the walls, on the shower curtain, and on my face. I finally got all that cleaned up, and apparently our dogs found the smell irresistible, because they had busied themselves by licking it up and rubbing their faces in it. I ended up taking the Exersaucer outside and hosing it off with the garden hose before removing the cloth part and throwing that in the wash and Lysoling the rest."
"When my oldest was an infant, and we didn't know what we were doing, she was fussy. Really fussy. All the time. We kept calling the doctor asking what to do and the doctor asked us to take her temperature. So, as I was on the phone with the doctor, my husband went in with a thermometer and took off her diaper. He barely got it inserted when she exploded all over his face, covering his glasses, his mouth, his nose, all over his chest, just a giant spray explosion of poop all over him."
"You'd think it was some massive poo-splosion or similar. Nope. My third kid was about 1-year-old. She picked up a small chunk of poo that had fallen out of her cloth diaper during a diaper change, and put. It. In. Her. Mouth."
"It was a glorious 2:00 a.m. when my daughter was about 2-months-old and I woke up to her crying. I picked her up and felt nothing but squish, from butt to neck. All diapers had been used up, and I only had one wipe left. Everything else was still downstairs. So, we went downstairs, with only low level lights on. Half-way down the stairs, she had yet another bowel movement, which of course went all over me. After taking the next step down, I stepped in dog poop, because apparently our dog wanted in on the poo business too. I hobbled into the kitchen, stripped the baby down, turned on the kitchen faucet and hosed her down. Only after she was taken care of was I able to wipe the dog doo off my foot."
"Baby had just pooped at the doctors office, so they wanted to get a naked weight. I warned them it wasn't a good idea, but we took off down the hall, naked baby in hand. The nurse set the paper sheet over the scale' s infant seat and just as I went to set her down she pooped all down my hand and in the seat. Little stinker pooped five ounces, in case you were wondering."
"When my oldest son was about 18-months-old, he and I were in parent/tot swimming lessons. I brought him home to shower after class. Since I had to shower too, I decided to bring him in the shower with me. This was his first time he had ever seen the shower on. He freaked out when I turned the water on, pooped on the floor, and stepped into it as he was trying to run away. He ended up falling because it was slippery, so not only was the bathroom floor covered with his poo, but he had poop all over himself as well. What a mess!"
"When my daughter was 2-weeks-old or so. I was going to go out by myself for the first time since she was born, to get a massage. I even showered and got into a (maternity) pant suit and was feeling pretty, both outside and in. I nursed her one last time, and my mom suggested I change her, too. And that's when it happened. I had her little butt in the air cleaning her, when she squirted all down the front of me: shirt, jacket, and pants. And of course, it was that newborn yellow sh*t. I wish it was a happy ending, but I was already running late and was sore as f*ck. I now just remembering crying in a slumped heap covered in poop. Yes, I can laugh about it now."
"When I arrived home from work one evening, the scene I witnessed was from a horror film. My 3-year-old daughter and 18-month-old son shared a bedroom, and while they were napping my daughter decided that, instead of walking the 10 feet to the bathroom, she would drop trou in the middle of the room, squat, and poop on the carpet.
Then, in an effort to disguise her misdeed, she took all the expensive wooden building blocks and wooden educational toys and piled them on top of the poop. When little brother woke from his nap, he crawled out of his toddler bed and explored the pile of toys in the middle of the room. When I arrived home, both kids were in the tub, and [my partner] was scrubbing the poo out of my son's hair.
The bedroom walls, door, carpet, changing table, beds, toy box, hamper, and toys were all smeared with poop. As an added treat, some of the furniture was wicker, so the poop was stuck in the cracks. I pitched the toys, scrubbed down the walls, took a toothbrush to the wicker, and shampooed the carpets. And then we poured ourselves a very stiff drink."
"My son was a few months old. My husband and I were helping a friend run errands and were sitting in the car when my son needed a diaper change. He has milk issues, so our days were filled with explosive diarrhea, until we got it all figured out. I handed him up front to daddy so he could change him. As the diaper came off, he had a bout of explosive diarrhea. It went all over the car and my husband. My being behind the seat saved me from the blast. I laughed hysterically, my husband was in shock, and our baby was very mad. Days later we were still finding splatters of poop that we had somehow missed that day."
"I was carrying my young baby around a supermarket in a ring sling, when suddenly I heard a characteristic 'splat' sound as I was browsing the frozen aisle. Moments later I felt distinctly warm and wet. There was bright yellow poo all over her, the sling, and my clothes."
"When my kid was about 1.5-years-old, I let her run around sans diaper for just a few minutes (while I surfed Facebook). After no more than three minutes she crawled into my lap with a poop-covered butt. While picking up the log from the floor, I happened to put my hand on the end table, it jiggled, and I heard something rattling around. Puzzled (because I thought the drawer was empty) I opened it. It was two petrified poop marbles. I have no idea how they got there, how long they had been there, or why she decided to stash poop in a drawer."
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