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Panic! (Personal Edition)
Sep. 28th, 2009 07:46 pmWhile my last post was about the failure of the media (the local paper to be precise) to report a situation accurately and with a level head, I myself have the same fault, albeit on a more personal level.
I wasn't going to put pressure on myself or let others do that to me, but that's easier said than done: With all those hormones floating around and the lack of sleep, anxieties can take root quickly. Then I become incapable of rational thought: I know that my baby isn't going to starve over the weekend, especially not as he's alert and active, but what if he isn't putting on much weight because there is SOMETHING WRONG - OMG, HE'S NEVER GOING TO PUT ON WEIGHT.
Yeah, after Thursday's midwife visit didn't show much of an improvement in Kingston's weight, Friday was a bit frantic, Saturday was already much better and on Sunday everything was alright again. On Sunday we drove to Smalltown to visit SportyGrandma and PhotoGranddad where Kingston was cuddled by Grandma, and where he spit up on Granddad and peed all over the floor. He didn't really do that last thing, because we were clever enough to put a changing mat under him.
Today, the midwife's scales showed some proper weight gain at last and we can now look forward to tomorrow's check-up without worrying that the doctor goes all "You shall have to feed baby every two hours" on us - apparently the local doctors recommend that at the moment because they attended some congress where that was all the rage. Anyway, if doctor says anything odd, I'm to call the midwife.
Kingston is asleep on my lap. Panic mode is off. Watching some tv helped as well (2.10 of True Blood on Saturday, new Dollhouse on Sunday).
One of these days, I'm putting together my thoughts on the bigger societal implications of all those expectations that babies are supposed to meet with weight gain tables, developmental charts etc. making all the mothers and fathers and health professionals slightly crazy. Even if you swear you're not going to go loopy because deep down you know that every baby is different.
I wasn't going to put pressure on myself or let others do that to me, but that's easier said than done: With all those hormones floating around and the lack of sleep, anxieties can take root quickly. Then I become incapable of rational thought: I know that my baby isn't going to starve over the weekend, especially not as he's alert and active, but what if he isn't putting on much weight because there is SOMETHING WRONG - OMG, HE'S NEVER GOING TO PUT ON WEIGHT.
Yeah, after Thursday's midwife visit didn't show much of an improvement in Kingston's weight, Friday was a bit frantic, Saturday was already much better and on Sunday everything was alright again. On Sunday we drove to Smalltown to visit SportyGrandma and PhotoGranddad where Kingston was cuddled by Grandma, and where he spit up on Granddad and peed all over the floor. He didn't really do that last thing, because we were clever enough to put a changing mat under him.
Today, the midwife's scales showed some proper weight gain at last and we can now look forward to tomorrow's check-up without worrying that the doctor goes all "You shall have to feed baby every two hours" on us - apparently the local doctors recommend that at the moment because they attended some congress where that was all the rage. Anyway, if doctor says anything odd, I'm to call the midwife.
Kingston is asleep on my lap. Panic mode is off. Watching some tv helped as well (2.10 of True Blood on Saturday, new Dollhouse on Sunday).
One of these days, I'm putting together my thoughts on the bigger societal implications of all those expectations that babies are supposed to meet with weight gain tables, developmental charts etc. making all the mothers and fathers and health professionals slightly crazy. Even if you swear you're not going to go loopy because deep down you know that every baby is different.
