So, the verdict is in. Matthew is probably sensitive to cows milk protein - different from lactose intolerance. More information here. You don’t really want to know how we discovered his sensitivity - it’s in a previous entry, should you so be inclined. It involves things that I never thought I’d be talking about freely and matter-of-factly online - my son’s poop. It goes without saying that all poop is quite gross; Matthew’s was even more so.

Anyway, after an agonizing night on Thursday when I first discovered the latest development in Matthew’s diapers, and then an agonizing day on Friday when Josh discovered more of the same, I finally talked to his pediatrician on Friday afternoon when she recommended I abstain from dairy.

(Pity me moment: did you know that dairy is EVERYWHERE? Seriously everywhere. Most processed foods have some sort of dairy in it - casein, whey, other “flavorings” that may or may not have dairy in it because it might be in amounts too small to warrant a line item on a nutritional box. Veggie cheese in the produce section has dairy. McDonald’s french fries have dairy. ARGH.)

I was a little glum about it, and I think in some ways I still am, but I’m getting over it. I was really glum on Saturday before I took Matthew on a quick grocery shop for extra fixings for the turkey I roasted on Saturday (yes! I made a turkey! After Thanksgiving!) and picked up some things that were tasty and didn’t have any dairy - like bagel chips and whole wheat matzoh crackers. Saturday I ate oatmeal and turkey (with Grandma’s stuffing!). Sunday I ate more oatmeal (this is good for the fiber and for the milk supply), leftover turkey, and black bean soup, and today I’ve had (guess it) oatmeal, a big salad at lunch, brussels sprouts, and for dinner asparagus and red pepper whole wheat pasta salad. The good thing about this is, obviously, that I can eat well and I damn well may eat healthier than I have in a good long while.

The frustrating thing about this entire ordeal is that I have guilt. I think I was born with it etched into my DNA. We started having issues with Matthew’s poop (this is all the detail I’ll get into here, I promise) when he was 8 weeks old - Matthew’s pediatrician wasn’t worried about it, so I pushed it out of my mind. Then more problems crept up until Friday came along. I messaged Josh at one point saying, “I feel like no one is listening to me.” I knew, I knew, he was allergic to something I was eating. At his four month appointment, he was prescribed a medicated lotion to treat his eczema, and the doctor ordered a battery of allergy tests that all came back negative, but now in my research I found that those tests aren’t generally very accurate for people under the age of 1. It sickens me a little that he had to worsen to the point he did on Thursday and Friday.

The other time I knew something was up was when we were still in the hospital, the 2nd day after he was born. His eyes started looking yellow and I knew he was jaundiced. The pediatrician on duty checked his numbers (10.8 something) and said he was fine. Two days after that he was over 20 something for bilirubin, and we had to be readmitted.

I posted on my mother’s board I belong to and mentioned how crazy it made me that I knew something was up and yet it was like I was peeing in the ocean - no one noticed or took me seriously. And yet these two times I was right. One of the other moms posted, “A mama always knows.” Will I? Do I? Was I just lucky these two times?

I don’t know where I’m going with this, other than I’m writing it down so if there is, god forbid, a third medical issue and I have a hunch, I sure as shit am going with that hunch, no matter how paranoid or neurotic it may make me sound.

Tomorrow, we are going out and leaving Matthew at home with a babysitter. I am surprisingly not as messed up about this as I thought I would be, but I like the babysitter and it’ll be nice to get out on our own. It’s funny to think that before Matthew came along, Josh and I went out to places together.

Of course, I say that now. Watch this space tomorrow. I’ll be posting about how much Josh and I talked about the baby the entire time we were out.