POV: It’s 4:30am

An early morning story for you.

POV: it’s 4:30am. you’ve just successfully fed your 5 week old his 3 ounce bottle of perfectly lukewarm breast milk and are studying his tiny face as he dozes off in your arms. you figure if you change his diaper now, you can swaddle him up, give him the last .5 ounce of milk left in the bottle and put him back to bed for his early morning snooze.

you carry him to the changing table, unzip the bottom half of his onesie, undo his diaper, and wipe him clean. suddenly, a fart. but just a fart. nothing to show for it. you giggle to yourself and continue. then, a louder fart, followed by a little bit of poo. “oh!” you whisper out loud to no one in the dark. finally, an even louder fart followed by baby poo flying out of his tiny baby butt and across the changing table. “oh fuck me” you whisper louder to the darkness.

you’re using every wipe there is to clean up the mess while ensuring your baby, who can’t control his arms or legs, doesn’t accidentally roll around in it when, suddenly, he decides this is a good time to add to the mix with some uncontrollable pee. he pees on the poo, on himself, on you, and on the changing table.

“JFC, ZIGGY!” you yell-whisper to your 5 week old who can hardly see 10 inches in front of him.

you frantically pick him up so you can protect him from his own excrement and feel something warm on your shirt — more pee. he’s pissing for a second time ON you.

“OH FUCK. JFC. OMG.”

you rip your shirt off, set him back on the newly clean changing table, and finally get a fresh diaper on him when you realize his onesie is soiled from his pee and now you’ve gotta change that, too. you figure you can easily take it off over his head until you’re doing just that and it’s stuck on his noggin and he’s now crying (very loudly) out into the darkness and you know your husband was up with him until 2:45am and you don’t want to wake him so now you’re feeling guilty AND frantic.

finally - FINALLY - the baby is clean and changed and calm. you feed him his last .5 ounce of milk, gently set him in the crib, and leave. you’re topless and defeated at 5am and you’ve still gotta pump because, oh - forgot to mention - you had already leaked through your shirt before Ziggy peed on it.

have a kid, they said. it’s the most rewarding thing in the world, they said.