Bananas Are The Devil

It's really hard for me to believe that, after weeks of controlled reflux, all it takes is a few spoonfuls of banana to blow everything apart.  But the evidence is stacking up loud and clear, and I can hear it calling to me "aren't you glad you trusted your gut and kept it simple with solids"?

By the afternoon of Banana Day, Baby was spitting up and sounding just a little bit raspy.  You're being paranoid, I told myself.  You're expecting it to go wrong, and you're looking for signs of doom.  I took a deep breath and told myself it was just a little bit of banana.  Calm down.
By that evening, we had more spit up, and baby had horrible refluxy hiccups.  The kind where she can barely breathe, and she's choking down spit up all throughout.  The facts were slapping me in the face.  Gwen Stefani was right: this shot is bananas.

At nighttime I was in full on reflux PTSD.  She was kicking her feet, wouldn't settle, clearly uncomfortable.  It took a long time to get her to sleep, and she slept very poorly throughout most of the night.  I prayed it would be better in the morning, but unfortunately, reflux flare ups always take DAYS sometimes WEEKS to resolve.

This morning she was hiccuping still, raspy, and taking shorter feeds.  Breathe deep, I told myself, it will get better.  I tried to take comfort in the fact that at least THIS time I knew what the problem was.  But she was hysterical for her breakfast oatmeal, wanting to eat because she hurt, and hurting because she was eating too much.  The rest of the day was plagued with incessant fussing.  The kind that makes you feel crazy, because there is nothing you can do to help it.  And it just goes on, and on, and on.... I sound horribly uncaring, don't I?

Dinner followed the same path, and afterwards she was very fussy.  At bedtime she settled into my arms, happily accepting the comfort, and clearly ready to rest.  That's when the hiccups started.  I held her for 20 minutes while she tried to breathe between rounds, her eyes drifting and then shooting open with each hiccup.  They finally slowed, then came to a stop.  Moments later she was asleep.

I hope today was the worst of it, and tomorrow will be better.