For some reason when I got pregnant it never occurred to me that my baby would spit up ALL THE DAMN TIME.  I knew babies were messy, but I just didn’t think about the constant flow of regurgitated milk would project out of Charlotte’s mouth every hour on the hour.  I was so excited when I found out I was having a girl because of all the beautiful clothes she would have, and now that she is here and she has all of those beautiful clothes they have to covered up by bibs and burp cloths.  It is a nightmare.  Eric and I literally just gave her a bath a half an hour ago, and as I was drying her off and getting her dressed she decided to spit up three times in 5 minutes into her freshly washed hair and the new onesie I put on her.  This kid is this close to being dressed in nothing but hefty garbage bags for easy cleanup and less laundry for me.

Charlotte has also proven her skills in the projectile vomit department quite nicely.  There is nothing more disconcerting than seeing your baby go full blown exorcist and spewing across the room.  NOT TO MENTION she is spewing up the milk that I am working so hard to make for her!  My breast milk is liquid gold and she won’t keep it down!  The vomiting and spitting up has now led me to give up all forms of dairy because I was told it could possibly help her, except it takes an entire month for cow’s milk proteins to leave my body so we won’t see any results for another week and a half.  With the amount of dairy I’ve consumed in my life it will probably take a year and a half for the proteins to leave my body.  I’ve given up cheese for my daughter.  CHEESE.  Everyone knows how much cheese means to me.  No fresh mozz, no american, no gouda, no NOTHING.  If that isn’t unconditional love, I don’t know what is.  I dream about stuffed shells during the few precious hours of sleep I get.  Yesterday at Palm Sunday dinner I had to eat my macaroni with a plate of fresh mozzarella in front of me and the pan of lasagna on the other table.  I think I would have rather been water-boarded.  If this little one doesn’t stop the psychotic puking by her third month on this planet I’m going to go on a cheese binge of epic proportions.  I’m going to lay on a bed of mozzarella and stuff it into my mouth by the fistfuls.  The things we do for our children…

The doctor said that because Charlotte is gaining weight at a beautiful rate and has nothing else wrong with her, she is what is known as a “happy spitter” which means her spitting up is more of a laundry problem than a health problem.  THANKS DOC.  I’m obviously glad she’s healthy, so in the mean time I’ll just keep dreaming of cheese and wiping the milk off her beautiful clothes.  The joys of motherhood!

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