Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts

Sunday, March 10, 2013

success!


B packed on a whole pound between that nasty flu bout and his weigh in on Thursday! For the first time that I can recall he actually has a little bit of excess on him. Little bits of chunk on his thighs and quite a tummy. Here is his most recent growth chart:



We still have a long ways to go, but he is doing well height wise. Now we just need to bump that second dot up a little bit more (that's his weight) and I think everyone will be happy. I know some of the credit may be due to the supplements the naturopath gave us, but I'm giving most of it to me and the muffins I created.

Saturday, December 29, 2012

it's not ideal, but it's okay


I hauled B in to the doctor late yesterday afternoon for a rash look over. I thought it was fifths disease with a little eczema thrown in. Turns out it's just a really bad case of eczema, which means it's time to pare B's diet way down. I think he had too much sugar over the holiday, and, of course, his sensitive system can't process sugar.



They pop B on the scale every time we're at the doctor because he's small and we need to be aware of his growth. When the doctor came in we talked about his rash - Oh hey, just eczema, again, we know what to do for that. No steroid cream, thanks. - then I asked about his weight.

"Oh, let me check," the doctor said as she turned to the computer. "I noticed how skinny he is around the ribs."

She clicked on his weight chart and winced. "Just over 17 lbs. He was in the 1st percentile at your last visit, now he's below, down in the negatives. How is he feeling?"

"He's fine. He's busy and active. His development seems on track."

"Let's check his height."

She measured him, then consulted his height chart.

"Well, his height is increasing, that's good. I worry if the height isn't increasing."

I lifted B to my hip. "Do we need to do anything? Are we to that point?"

"I don't think so. His weight is low. It's not ideal, but it's okay. Keep feeding him, let him tell you when he wants to eat, have him eat a variety of foods. I know it's hard with his numerous allergies. If you notice any lethargy at all, bring him in right away. I think this is going to be a rocky time, with some weight issues, because you are weaning and struggling to find a good milk replacement. But he is doing fine. We can continue as we are for now."

I thanked her and we left.

When I came home I checked in on a facebook group I participate in. It's a group of natural minded mamas who use the same midwives I do. There was a discussion going about baby weight at birth and I wanted to see what others had posted. Everyone's babies were 7 lbs, or higher. I was the only one with a 5 and 6 lb baby.

I'm inclined to believe B's size is mostly due to genetics. We are not big people. Many of our relatives are not big people. But when I see how small my babies are in comparison to others I wonder if something goes wrong during gestation, which puts them at a disadvantage for the rest of their lives. Or, in Charlotte's case, causes death. I know, I know. Irrational loss mom thoughts here, but that's where my brain goes.

I worry about B's future. There are days when I want to punch the next person who says, "Hey, your 9 month old can really run! That's crazy!!" I wonder if he will always be small, and how that will affect his life. I worry about him being the smallest boy in his class. No mama wants their little to get beat up. J and I joke about teaching him to run really fast, but there may be real necessity behind the joking.

I have to remind myself: He's alive. He's breathing. He can walk, run and climb. His development is right on track. He may look 9 months old, but he's doing just fine.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

on being a mama and how it's changed me




I have such a hard time getting myself to bed at a reasonable hour. Reasonable being 8:00 if I want to get enough sleep.  Realistic being 9:00. Reality being 10:00 or later.

Once Bennett is down for the night my time begins and I love my time.  J does the pacifier fetching and soothing from 7:00 until bed, which means I have hours to myself.  We often spend some of this time together, but a chunk of it is spent on our separate computers on different levels of the house.  I love spending time with J, but I cherish my alone time too.  It's important to me and necessary for my mental well being.

It's hard to go to sleep knowing Bennett will nurse between 9:30 and 10:30.  I hate sleeping for thirty minutes to an hour, I would rather stay up, nurse, and then sleep for four hours (if I'm lucky, which I haven't been for a few nights now).

During the day I feel like I'm sneaking time.  When Bennett is napping I should be cleaning the house, preparing dinner, folding laundry, but at night when the house is clean (ha, yeah right, more like good enough) I feel free to spend time on things I enjoy.

And when Bennett is awake I feel guilty if I'm online, or reading a book, or watching a television show.  I know he needs time on his own to play, but if I'm on the computer or reading a book I feel like I'm ignoring him.

It's funny, though, to watch J with Bennett on the weekends.  J plays on his phone, reads a magazine, does whatever he likes while Bennett plays next to him on the floor.  Then I get crazy jealous and a little bit angry because I don't get to do those things!

Silly, right?

There are days that fly by.  Somehow we go from waking up to J walking in the door in what feels like five minutes.  Other days drag.  I take Bennett to the grocery store just to get us out of the house.  And when my friend from down the street shoots me a text asking what we're up to I'm on her doorstep within seconds because I need someone else to entertain Bennett for a few minutes and her kids do a great job of it.

I'm happy staying home, but there are times when the solitary nature of being a stay at home mom overwhelms me.  And there are times when I feel like apologizing to Bennett because I'm all he's got for hours at a time.

Being a parent has highlighted and exposed my insecurities.  I'm the type of person who gets caught up in who is doing what.  I wonder what other moms are doing, how they're doing it, if I'm doing enough for Bennett.  I wonder if we should be doing more activities, but then remind myself he's only six months old, a bit too young for scissors and glue, we can break the crafts out later.  Some days are exhausting, some boring, some entertaining.  Most are all of these things hour after hour after hour.

After Charlotte died I complained about not having a guide to parenting a dead baby.  Well, there are plenty of books on parenting a living child, but after my brief foray into the world of sleep trainers I decided to do without the books and so find myself lost some most of the time.

Since Bennett's birth I've realized how much I discounted parents, friends, fellow mothers after Charlotte died.  I had a big chip on my shoulder, a bad attitude and a dead baby card.  Running through my mind like a non-stop advertisement in neon were the words, You think parenting is hard!  You think your life is hard!  You should try having a dead baby!  I threw that card down left and right like it bought me space to be dismissive to anyone and everyone having a difficult time in their lives.

I've learned now that each hard time is different and unique.  And what each person is experiencing in their lives is important because it is happening to them.  My hard time is not your hard time, but that doesn't mean yours should be negated.  We all have rocky roads to walk, we all struggle, we all feel inept at one time or another, we all need friends to lift and build us up.

I understand now that (most) parents do the best they can to love and raise their children to be decent, kind citizens.  No one knows what they are doing all of the time, but everyone knows what they are doing some of the time. And if we combine our knowledge we are unstoppable.

I have judged, condemned, sneered, and expressed frustration.  Now I want to extend a hand, let all parents know I praise and commend you.  And this also applies to those who have children in their hearts only.  It takes a strong mother to keep a memory so alive it feels tangible; when I talk to you I see your baby superimposed, imprinted on your heart, forever remembered and loved.

I hope you feel blessed and encouraged today.

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