Anyone who's a mom knows the second you become a mom you begin to worry about the weirdest things.
For instance, I was beginning to get concerned when Miles hadn't had a dirty diaper in about two days, and that he was producing the foulest smelling gas ever made by a 3 month old. (This from a kid who used to make three or more dirty, non-stinky diapers a day!) Then yesterday as I was standing in line at Subway, holding my sweet little angel (since holding the car seat is like toting around an anvil - yes, my shoulder muscles are very sculpted now, thank you), I realized my arm was wet.
Hmmm... I thought - must be a diaper leak.
Indeed it was.
Two days' worth of breastmilk had worked its way through my baby and right out of his diaper all over me. It was on him, it was on my arm, and it was making its way up my shirt.
But here's what's funny - I wasn't grossed out or embarrassed -- even though the "sandwich artist" was giving me a funny look.
I was relieved. "Yes!" I rejoiced in my new mother-warped brain. "My son is healthy! He finally pooped!"
And then I, a mom covered in poo, happily ordered my sandwich. To go.