The past few days have been frustrating. My mom and my mother-in-law say we aren’t going through anything that any other first-time parents don’t do through…but, it’s different when it happens to you! That’s all. That’s my sleep-deprived revelation.
I was able to find a lactation consultant who came to our apartment on Monday and said that Squeaker looked like a very happy baby, very social, just not particularly interested in eating. (Really? This is my daughter? Food is my life.) When she finally got down to business, she put on a good show. The consultant confirmed what I had feared: this was not just Squeaker’s eccentric personality, that something (likely reflux) was hurting her. That and she’s only been gaining five grams a day when she should be gaining around 22.
Concerned, we took her to the doctor again yesterday. This doctor was better (more thorough in her explanations) than the other two, but her bedside manner was lacking. I would think that if one goes into the pediatric profession, one would like children, but apparently that is not a requirement.
Actually, the only pediatrician I have liked so far is the one who saw us while I was still in the hospital. The other five (yes, five) seemed like they learned medicine from a children’s movie–circle of life, spoonful of sugar, and all that.
Squeaker’s about half a kilo (roughly a pound) underweight, and I’m still not sure what equation the doctor used to figure that out. We left with medications for her reflux and a pill to increase my milk supply. I later found out that that particular pill was an antipsychotic used in South Africa, Zimbabwe, and, oh yeh, Chile, to increase milk production. Because we all like our milk with a side of sanity.
Seriously, though. I’m not sure if it’s cultural or if this happens everywhere, but I have never (in my short three months as a mother) had so many people accuse me of being the problem. Baby cries before latching? Must be traumatized by lack of milk or some crap. Is it just easier to point the finger at the mother than try to get the answer from an infant who cannot spontaneously learn to talk?
Based on the advice of some friends, and because I’m kind of a hippie, I decided to try and give up gluten and milk products and see if that helps calm her down some, too. So, now I’m dealing with a colicky baby and I’m hungry to boot. I’m so much fun these days, y’all!
And that’s about as much as I can coherently…
Happy Valentine’s Day!