Do you really want to know this?
Korenna is eleven days old. She is past the point in time when her little umbilical clamp was supposed to fall off, so I have been scrutinizing it all day long. (It looks okay, but I wanted to make sure she wasn't going to have to have it surgically removed before she ever wore a two-piece bathing suit.)
Anyway, in an effort to keep her awake a little while this evening, Daniel and I decided to give her a bath. I got warm water in a bowl by the kitchen sink, while Daniel entertained her in the living room. I called out that I was ready, and he brought her to me.
Laying her down gently on the mesh bathtub thingy, he paused for a second, then he said, "Dang! Where is her belly button thing?"
I glanced down and saw that it was missing.
We looked on the counter, floor and in her diaper. Nowhere.
Um, this has the potential to become really gross. That thing looks like a raisin, and we all know Tux is none too picky about what he eats.
Daniel backtracked to the living room to search the couch. Nothing. Her bedroom. Nothing. Finally, back in the kitchen, he found it, hidden in the fringe on the floor mat.
"What do I do with it?" he asked, holding it up for me to see.
"Sick! Throw it away!" I said.
Not to be heartless. I mean, it is a remnant of the cord that connected her to me, through which she was fed and nourished. It brought her life. But still. Sick.
At least Tux didn't find it first.
Anyway, in an effort to keep her awake a little while this evening, Daniel and I decided to give her a bath. I got warm water in a bowl by the kitchen sink, while Daniel entertained her in the living room. I called out that I was ready, and he brought her to me.
Laying her down gently on the mesh bathtub thingy, he paused for a second, then he said, "Dang! Where is her belly button thing?"
I glanced down and saw that it was missing.
We looked on the counter, floor and in her diaper. Nowhere.
Um, this has the potential to become really gross. That thing looks like a raisin, and we all know Tux is none too picky about what he eats.
Daniel backtracked to the living room to search the couch. Nothing. Her bedroom. Nothing. Finally, back in the kitchen, he found it, hidden in the fringe on the floor mat.
"What do I do with it?" he asked, holding it up for me to see.
"Sick! Throw it away!" I said.
Not to be heartless. I mean, it is a remnant of the cord that connected her to me, through which she was fed and nourished. It brought her life. But still. Sick.
At least Tux didn't find it first.
posted by Amanda
at
8:21 PM
5 Comments:
Ewww, the thought of someone EATING that makes me nauseous. :)
Dang. I thought surely Tux would be 2-0 in eating disgusting things falling from your children.
Yeah, we didn't save the umbilical stump, either. I have friends (yes, plural) who've scrapbooked it, though. One woman's scrunchy raisin-ish thing is another woman's treasure, I guess.
Is it bad that my first thought was, "Put it in the freezer!"
In case you ever need the DNA, I mean. I think I've been watching too much CSI.
I have to agree... I definately vote for dead tissue disposal. This would include not only umbilical chord remnants, but scabs, sunburn skin and the like.
Jes's comment totally gave me the heeby jeebies.
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