Breastfeeding + Dairy Allergy = No fun

Bloody diapers, dairy-free cooking, and the worthwhile sacrifices of motherhood.

“Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out….” That’s what I kept telling myself as I totally and completely freaked out. There was blood in my baby’s diaper. I thought I’d seen something suspicious in the last couple of diapers, but not sure enough to let myself panic. I’d call the doctor on Monday and see what she said. Well, that was blood, and I was now fully prepared to panic.

Do kids ever get sick during the week? Or even during the day during the week? Nope. It’s like they keep a copy of the pediatrician’s office hours stashed in their onesies. So, Sunday afternoon found us on the road to the ER, my husband driving, me in the backseat next to the car seat as if there was something I could do by just sitting next to my baby. My husband dropped us off while he parked so I could start the check-in process. I nervously rocking the baby carrier as I filled out the paperwork. He wasn’t crying. He was just sitting there looking all tiny and helpless.  Continue reading “Breastfeeding + Dairy Allergy = No fun”