For the first 3 months of his life,
our son Evan
has been amazingly good about keeping his formula down. I think the
score was Spit Up On Daddy - 1, Spit Up On Mommy - 1. For three solid
months. I thought we were gonna have it easy. There was the time in
early June where he started crying when presented with the bottle
because something funny was going on in his tummy, but a trip to the
pediatrician and a bottle full of kiddie Zantac and all seemed well.
Well, the times they are a changin'.
He's kicked into a new throw up gear. It accompanied an illness, so we
were initially thinking it might be related. Still, the more I read,
the more I believe the kid's got a touch of the
GER (Gastroesophageal Reflux).
As soon as I became aware that the spitting-up was becoming more
regular, I started to take precautions. Instead of hanging out with him
on the couch on a comfy pillow, I was feeding him while sitting on the
floor with a bowl nearby (just in case).
After a while, I determined this was lunacy. Not only would it be
pretty difficult to get the timing and direction just so in order to
"hit the target", I also found that feeding and hang out time was just
no fun any more. I certainly didn't like it - having to always wonder
where I left the bowl and do way too much pre-planning and maneuvering.
I know Evan didn't like it - being held and moved in unusual ways.
Just today, I gave up. I mean sure, I'm going to be a little careful
(not going to feed him next to my computer) ... but if it happens, it
happens. I'd rather we both be happy. I'll just be sure to keep a
bottle of water with baking soda handy.