Yesterday was baby O's 4 month check up. He was happy and gurgling all over the place. Everything was going swimmingly until we got to the scale. Turns out, scales are not this family's friend.
O weighed in at 12.5 pounds. At 4 months he hadn't doubled his birth weight. And while already on the small side, he's slipped into the 5% percentile in weight. He's not wasting away. There's some rolls on his legs and he's got some junk in the baby trunk. But the doctor's orders were clear.
"Fatten this baby up."
Irony. I has it. We were sent home with instructions to feed him 6 to 8 oz every four hours and begin solid foods and cereal. I have no idea how to measure 6 to 8 oz from my poor boobs every four hours (weigh myself before and after?) but I'll do my best. Thank goodness the kid is a cereal monster already.
The sad thing is, I saw her cringe before she said it. Yes, telling an overweight mom to fatten up her kid was probably not covered in bedside manner pamphlets. If I didn't feel so worthless as a breastfeeding mom, I'd probably laugh at the irony. I now have to figure out how to double my milk production (I'm already taking fenugreek), and do it in fewer intervals than before. He had set himself on a five hour schedule. Oh. And measure it somehow. Sure doc, I'll get right on that. I'm pretty sure the mars rover saw that eye roll.
We have to go back at the end of August and see if he's gained enough. Between stressing about finding enough work, hubby's stomach surgery and now making sure I don't starve my baby... I'm reasonably sure I'm going to lose my mind. I'm even struggling with not feeling like I struck out on breastfeeding already. Here I was, so happy to be able to do it this time, and my 4 month old doesn't weigh enough. It's enough to make me want to give up and give him the bottle, just so I can make sure he's getting fed properly. I know I won't though. I fought so hard to breastfeed. I'm not copping out yet. I just wish I didn't feel like I wasn't doing it right.
O weighed in at 12.5 pounds. At 4 months he hadn't doubled his birth weight. And while already on the small side, he's slipped into the 5% percentile in weight. He's not wasting away. There's some rolls on his legs and he's got some junk in the baby trunk. But the doctor's orders were clear.
"Fatten this baby up."
Irony. I has it. We were sent home with instructions to feed him 6 to 8 oz every four hours and begin solid foods and cereal. I have no idea how to measure 6 to 8 oz from my poor boobs every four hours (weigh myself before and after?) but I'll do my best. Thank goodness the kid is a cereal monster already.
The sad thing is, I saw her cringe before she said it. Yes, telling an overweight mom to fatten up her kid was probably not covered in bedside manner pamphlets. If I didn't feel so worthless as a breastfeeding mom, I'd probably laugh at the irony. I now have to figure out how to double my milk production (I'm already taking fenugreek), and do it in fewer intervals than before. He had set himself on a five hour schedule. Oh. And measure it somehow. Sure doc, I'll get right on that. I'm pretty sure the mars rover saw that eye roll.
We have to go back at the end of August and see if he's gained enough. Between stressing about finding enough work, hubby's stomach surgery and now making sure I don't starve my baby... I'm reasonably sure I'm going to lose my mind. I'm even struggling with not feeling like I struck out on breastfeeding already. Here I was, so happy to be able to do it this time, and my 4 month old doesn't weigh enough. It's enough to make me want to give up and give him the bottle, just so I can make sure he's getting fed properly. I know I won't though. I fought so hard to breastfeed. I'm not copping out yet. I just wish I didn't feel like I wasn't doing it right.