You know you’re living with a refluxer when…

Everything you own is regualarly vomited on. And you start to get used to the smell. And you think nothing of wiping it with a babywipe seeing as its only going to happen again in a few moments.

Everything in your house is set to a incline and nobody gets to lie flat anymore. Especially at night time, when you should be sleeping…

… you don’t get much sleep. Three hours in a row (before medication) is a good run and you’re grateful when it happens.

You know the first names of all 28 GPs at the surgery, you regularly ask after the receptionist’s grandson/ dog/ elderly father and you have your own parkng space at the children’s outpatients department.

You learn to take the phrase “He’ll grow out of it when he gets to twleve weeks/ starts to sit up/ starts to eat solid food/ starts to walk/ turns one…” with a hefty pinch of salt.

You know instantly the reflux cry. And you know that nothing you can do will ease it until it passes. Cuddles are the only remedy here.

You let him sleep in the car seat. With the extractor fan on full blast and the hoover growling by his side. When he’s older, you let him sleep in his car seat, in silence.

You learn the skilfull art of gracefully swooping the baby around so that the sick reaches the wooden floor rather than the carpet, or Daddy’s shoulder rather than your own.

You forget what its like to do a grocery shop without scrutinising the labels. Dairy- bad.

You spend a little time torturing yourself with notions that it might be something more then reflux… then you get a grip and remember he WILL grow out of it … one day.

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4 responses to “You know you’re living with a refluxer when…

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