I don’t know if you noticed, but I might have had a minor meltdown last week. And I might have blogged under the influence (of sleep deprivation) which is never a good idea. A couple of weeks ago, the stars aligned and created the perfect storm of parenting Hell. I did live to tell about it. OBVIOUSLY. Because you heard me tell allll about it. I think I emotionally vomited on my keyboard and pushed “Publish” before the Xanax kicked in.
For starters, we all had the stomach bug. I got it last and threw up every hour Friday night from 12am-7am, so I was really well-rested. Unbeknownst to us, Hattie’d had an ear infection for at least a week. She screamed a lot and slept not a lot. Throughout it all, I was PMSing which is never helpful. And we had company coming, whom I was very excited to see but too sick and tired to clean for, which stressed me out. (JoJo to the rescue, though. My mom came and cleaned my entire house in less time than it takes me to make my bed. When will I get that good at being a mom?)
After a long weekend, Monday arrived. I took Hattie to the doctor (finally) to find that she did indeed have an ear infection (yay!! for a treatable diagnosis). But that was not the headline news. While at the appointment, I learned that she’d gained two ounces in two months. What is it with my miniature babies?? With some concern, the doctor advised me to supplement her feedings and come back for her nine-month checkup on April 1 to see if we’d made progress.
Well, after she finished her antibiotic she was still acting a little irritable so I took her back in Friday. I put her on the scale for the moment of truth. She hadn’t gained one ounce. Not one ounce in two weeks of supplementing. However, her ear infection was gone (which, to be honest, was disappointing because I was banking on THAT being the reason she’d screamed for an hour and refused food that morning).
Here’s the munchkin’s stats: Hattie Jo will be nine-months-old next Friday. She is weighing in at 13 lb. 4 oz, which is two pounds smaller than Charlee at the same age. Two whole pounds smaller than her premature sister. She is still in the same clothes she was at four-months-old. I remember taking her to football games in the outfits she currently wears.
So the doctor told me she wanted to move my appointment up to Monday (as in tomorrow) because we need to get her “checked out from head to toe.” So that left me with 72 hours to ponder all the life-threatening diseases my child must have that are keeping her from growing. Someone needs to cut me off of Google right now. Joking. Kinda. I’m pretty sure my milk supply is the culprit. Because of my supply issues with Charlee (I dried up at 7 months… why don’t my boobs work), I’m thinking I’ll end up having to use some high-calorie formula to start bulking her up. The kind that costs more than the actual birth. That’s okay, though. I’m willing to trade my retirement for a plump baby.
So if you’re feeling like a prayer warrior tomorrow at 2:40, send one up for my little one. In some ways I am hoping that the fussiness is somehow tied to the weight gain, or lack thereof, just to validate all my tears of frustration the past few months. My prayer is for a quick and painless appointment with lots of simple answers that are easy to fix and make everyone’s life easier. Seems like a tall order.
It’s easy to let your mind go places. But odds are it’s no big deal. Besides, why worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will care for itself.
Side note… the giveaway for the Dean & Grace dress is open until Saturday if you’re interested in things like cute little girl dresses.