I am sitting on the back porch with the fan wide open and I am still steaming at 10am. I am loving it. The best part though? One child is running around in the yard, splashing in the pool and having a ball, and the other is sleeping peacefully in a bouncy seat at my side. I feel so lucky it makes me laugh. It is going to be a sweltering day that makes everyone a little bit lazy. I am looking forward to it.
********************** -me changing subjects.
I have been wandering around with this post in my head for a little over a week now, and I really wanted to get it out. Otherwise, I would probably just skip it and move on. I am now a mother of two. I feel like I have joined a new secret society. The one where you no longer have it easy because the adults no longer outnumber the kids, and you are now man-on-man. I didn't realize there were different societies, but everyone is suddenly cutting me a little more slack when I don't get things done when I should or when I forget to drop off the sandwich money at the preschool for I don't know how many days in a row.
Back to it- the first week of this precious babe's life
I did the typical weigh-in at the pediatrician's office. He had dropped weight, expected, of course. They all do. So it is requested that I come back in 4 days to see if he has gained weight. Well, he still hadn't. Still somewhat expected, but the doctor that we had been fit in with, starts the speech of, "You may want to think about supplementing." I was immediately defensive.
You have to have the history to completely understand. I tried breastfeeding Preston, and due to a terrible rash I was put on medication to clear the rash up. When I say terrible, I mean covered head to toe. The medicine did clear up the rash, but it also, dried me up, so that I couldn't feed my firstborn. It was very upsetting. We didn't learn until way after the fact that the medicine was the culprit. I had done everything to keep my supply up, I bought all the supplements, I pumped, I drank a beer a day, nothing helped and I starved Preston for two weeks before I finally gave in and gave up. He became a different baby. He was happy, content and started sleeping through the night.
Back to the doctor's office. She immediately started backpedaling, realizing she had stepped on some toes. I promptly explained the history, and that we weren't going down that road with this child. That he was happy, he was content and that if I felt that he wasn't, then I would have no problem giving him formula to give him what he needs. I didn't feel the need to explain to her that he was only a week old, and she had just told me four days earlier that they expect them to hit their lowest weight at a week of age. She said that they would need to see him back in three days to make sure things were on an upswing. Fine, if they want to keep close tabs on us, I am okay with that. I made our appointment for five days. I was going to give him every opportunity.
I had lunch with my mom, and in that time my intuition kicked into overdrive. I started telling myself that some doctor that was my age was no more qualified to tell me how to raise my child than one of the ladies in church. I decided then, in that restaurant, that I would trust my instincts and go with my gut. I also made sure to make our next appointment with our regular pediatrician, who I love. He doesn't get worked up about anything, and if I go into the the office and tell him my three year has croup, he believes me. He even trusts me enough to send me home with an extra prescription for it, and everyone else always makes me come in every time he gets it. After lunch though, I head home and like a good new mommy, I break out the pump to increase my supply, and I continue to feed on demand. I am in high demand these days!
So I go back five days later and of course, just as I had guessed, Grant is gaining. He is still content and happy. I just noticed this morning after I put him in a sleeveless shirt, that his little arms are filling out and becoming chubby. Which also made me think, I need to take some pictures of this little boy before he changes. He is only two weeks and four days and he is already growing up. It feels like this little boy is going to grow up with lightening speed. I am working really hard to be present with this one and remember all his littleness, but it hit me today that the last 18 days have vanished without having a moment to breath. I am really going to have to work at this.
That and I have a 3 year and 11 month old on my hands that will all too soon be a four year old. I don't want to lose focus on his growth either. I look forward to the weekend that we are planning in PA going to Dutch Wonderland and focusing on him in all his four year old glory. However, I look back at the last four years and see them tied up in play dates, running errands, walks to story time, a year of preschool, park fun, time with grandparents and cousins, and I think that it suits us just fine.
I know that both my kids are happy and healthy, and when we all get use to Grant, we will all be well-adjusted once more. I am going to trust myself and know that what I am doing is right for them. I am doing the best I can, but not without worry. I know that I will second guess myself and whether I can do things differently/better, but to look at these two and think that I have gone wrong somewhere?
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