Shaking Baby Syndrome

I first heard about shaken baby syndrome when we had our first child.  We went to a course on baby care at the hospital and the old nurse that was teaching the class told us about it.  She said that a common way of death for infants was called shaken baby syndrome and it is caused by the parents violently shaking the baby.  Almost half of all abused children die this way and usually from 60% male parents.

"Like making a Martinin?  That kind of shaking?"
"Shut up Mr. Perry, this is serious."
"Yeah right, like this might have happened once, and for a parent on Cocaine or something?"
"An estimated 1,600 children a year in the US die from this!"
"No way!  How barbaric!  This can't possible be happening that frequently!"

I laughed at the old lady on the way out of the hospital.  They are always telling you about these rare, oddball instances that happen, like babies drowning in a bucket.

The past two nights I've been up with Katie.  She cries.  She cries some more.  I can't settle her down.  Hours go by so slowly.  No sleep.  She settles and I turn off the light and lay down to sleep and she wakes up again.  On and on, over and over, 1:00 am, 2:00 am, 3:00 am.  She throws up on me.  I change her clothes time after time after time.  The monotony.

Yes, shaking baby syndrome is serious.  I can so see how it happens.  Don't get me wrong, I love my daughter and would never intentionally harm her.  I'm so sorry that she feels so bad.  But the frustration, the exhaustion, the lack of sleep just build up and irritate you more and more.  The headaches.  The backaches.  All I want to do is to make it QUIET!  QUIET!  QUIET!

I can see how it can happen.  Other men that I know have experienced the same thing.  You just want the baby to shut the hell up at any cost.

God protect my baby.  Make her sleep.

Butt Massage

"You want me to do WHAT?"
"Massage her anus."
"Are you out of your ever lovin' mind?"
"No, that is what the doctor said to do and it works."

It appears that the baby has inherited my wife's uptight-ness.  Little Katie has trouble pooping.  From what I can tell, talking in man-terms, her release valve and pressure system are not working in tandem.

Picture this...

You have a moonshine still.  You heat the squeezin's up and it vaporizes the alcohol.  The alcohol vapor moves through the copper tubing and gradually builds up pressure.  Luke is supposed to go to the thump barrel and turn the tap while he catches the shine in a mason jar.  But what if old Luke has to go into town for supplies, or has been sippin' on the last batch and doesn't turn the valve?  The pressure from the increasing amount of alcohol in the pipe continues to grow in pressure.  Soon, very soon the top of the mountain blows off the map.

Ok, maybe that is a bad explanation.

Either way, as you build up a supply of poopies and continue to put pressure on your valve, you'll soon need to relieve the pressure or burst the baby.  So the doctor has us remove her diaper and rub her little tushie with a warm rag to help her relax.

So I take off Katie's diaper and she immediately begins to grunt.  And grunt.  And GRUNT!  The pressure continues to build.  And build.  And BUILD!  I rub and rub and rub.

BANG!  SPEW!

A snot green line of crap shoots out of baby Katie, across the changing table, over the carpet and directly into the doorway about three feet away.  And it spews.  And spews.  And SPEWS!

Baby Katie smiles.  She has relief.

Daddy grabs the carpet cleaner.  Its going to be a long night.