Stacie Sherman

Poop is going to be the end of me. It’s also going to be the topic of this post, so if you’re queasy, be warned.

Poop is the cause of so much pain, so much stress, for so many autism mamas.

So many kids with autism have stomach issues, mine included. Many studies show that children with autism are way more likely to have issues like constipation, diarrhea and other bowel problems. As if we didn’t have enough to deal with. And many of our kiddos can’t even tell us what’s bothering them.

Some of the reasons for these stomach issues are obvious. Our kids are picky eaters. Brielle would eat spaghetti, cheese and rice for breakfast, lunch and dinner every day if I let her. Until recently she spurned any fruit or vegetable. No wonder she’s bound up.

Then there is the link between the front and the back. Bree is prone to urinary infections. Turns out, constipation can cause urinary infections.

We have been to urologists, gastroenterologists, gynecologists, emergency rooms, you name it, battling this issue for years and years.  We have flooded her with Miralax. We have given her probiotics and vitamins. We continue to deal with this. Because the fact is, when she’s not well down there, she’s not well up there. Meaning if she’s got an irritable bowel or a UTI, she’s in no mood to learn or sit or be happy.

I can’t blame her. I have my own gut issues and they make me cranky too. But watching her the past month or so has been really concerning. Bree has been more irritable, and punching herself in the head. Now I’m worried about concussions.  Breaks my heart.

Just this past weekend, we were at a family birthday party, at a house where Bree usually loved to visit. Within minutes of getting there she was throwing herself down on the carpet. She spent most of her time in a room away from everyone else. At one point of the night, as a bunch of family sat in the living room, Bree ran across the hardwood floor yelling and landed herself on her knees. They looked up at me with surprise. I looked back without surprise because for me, this is my normal. Or at least it’s been my normal for several weeks.

I know at least one member of my family will think to call when they read this. That’s the wonderful family I have. But don’t call, not gonna answer. I just can’t.  I can’t chat about this on the phone. I hate the phone. The phone is for chit-chat. I can’t chit-chat. I’ve lost the time, the patience, and the ability to chit-chat. Autism has taken that from me.

So how was your Tuesday? I spent mine getting Bree an ultrasound, then an x-ray, then visiting her pediatric neurologist, then calling out of a really busy day of work so I could take her to the emergency room for help with severe constipation. You see, she needed an enema. And there was no way she was going to let me give her one. I’ve tried. Many times. I’ve tried by myself, I’ve tried with help from my fearless husband. She is a strong little thing.

When we got to the emergency room, I told the nurse she was not going to get an enema in Bree without some sedation, she doubted me! And insisted on trying. Sure thing, go for it. Four nurses, 20 minutes and one stubborn Brielle later, they gave up.

Next they gave her some Valium. She threw it up.

They gave her some more Valium. She kept it down. But it didn’t do much to calm her. So they gave her some more.

Hours after we got there, she finally seemed calm enough to try again. But as soon as she saw the four nurses walk in she was having none of it.  Some way, somehow, the five of us managed to hold her still enough to get that enema in her.

The rest is poop history.

We were in that emergency room for hours. Surprisingly, Bree was relatively calm. No meltdowns, only freak outs during enema attempts. When we finally left, she skipped out with a smile on her face, like it all never happened.

Oh, but it did.

This problem is far from over. As she sleeps, I’m on the computer looking up home constipation remedies and ordering high-fiber foods and planning which doctor’s appointment to make next. Because a happy Bree is a happy Me.