Jacob's 4-month appointment
It's pretty much the same old story. He's a baby Godzilla. I must say I was a little disappointed that he didn't make it to 20 lbs yet, clocking in at only 18 lbs 6 oz. That puts him back on the charts, at the 97th percentile. He is way off the charts for his length, though, as he continues in his 'baller aspirations. He sprouted another 2-1/4 inches and now measures 27-3/4 inches long. Remember how, when he was born, his head was in the 20th percentile? Apparently that was just nature helping him to make it through my skinny-boy hips, because now his noggin circumference has zoomed up the charts, into the 75th percentile. In a nutshell, he's a big boy.
He got three more shots today, the same as before -- a DTaP/polio combo, a HiB, and a PCV. He cried, and his combo shot has left a mosquito-bite-looking swelling on his leg, but it doesn't seem to be too sore. However, he has spent the entire day, when not sleeping peacefully and well, screaming his head off. I've been keeping him hopped up on the Tylenol, but it doesn't seem to make a difference.
What really sucks is that it is impossible for us to know if the fussing is because of the shots, or if it's a continuation of the fuss-a-thon that has hit our house hard in the past week. And of course Dada did what all stupid Dadas do when we got home from the doctor, and asked me if I had brought up the topic of his excessive fussing with her. It completely slipped my mind, mainly because from the moment she entered the room he was a happy, cooing angel. The traitor.
So now I am stricken with the classic mommy inner turmoil -- is my baby okay, or is he sick? How the heck am I supposed to know?
Let me describe it to you.
*If I put him on the floor, sometimes he fusses right away, but sometimes not. He is perfectly happy to be on the floor for awhile if I sit right beside him and play with him or sing or talk to him, or if Big Brother is close enough to stare at.
*If I put him in the exersaucer, his Jumparoo, or his rocking chair, he starts screaming almost immediately.
*If I carry him around, he does not fuss. If Daddy carries him around and I am not in the room, he screams his little head off and, according to Dada, moves his head around in a panicky fashion as if looking for me.
This all makes for a LOT of fussing, but not constant, unrelenting fussing. And the boy, he sleeps just fine, especially when he sleeps next to me. In our completely unscientific opinion, it seems that what Jacob really wants is his mama. All the time. With no substitutes.
I wasn't too worried that something could be wrong until Dada suggested that I should have mentioned it to the doctor. And now my mind is forcibly jerked back to the story of a baby girl from our playgroup. The thing that struck you instantly about this girl upon meeting her, as we did when we started going to playgroup last August, was that she was just huge. I mean, bigger than some kids twice her age, easy. When we last saw her, her grandma, who took her to playgroup, said she weighed 32 pounds at her 15-month pediatrician's visit. For scale, Isaac weighed 29 pounds at his 2-year visit. Her mom came to playgroup once, and chatted it up with Ella's mom and I. Ella's mom remarked that this girl's mom was just obsessed with how big the girl was, and while it was completely obvious that the girl was big for her age, she was so sweet and very capable. She was a good sharer. She walked early. What does it matter? Some babies are just big.
While we were in Indianapolis about a month ago, I got an email from my friend Amy. Amy said that this girl's grandma had come to playgroup alone that day. About a month earlier, the girl had been diagnosed with cancer; two weeks earlier, she had passed away.
It's just tragic, a true parental nightmare. I didn't know this girl and her family well at all, and I know nothing of the details. But I can't help thinking about my darling and seriously bouncing Jacob. Was this girl's weight a precursor to her cancer? Is it in the least bit possible that the same thing might befall my Jacob? Now, before you say "No, Claire, no way!", think. How would I even know that something is going wrong?
He got three more shots today, the same as before -- a DTaP/polio combo, a HiB, and a PCV. He cried, and his combo shot has left a mosquito-bite-looking swelling on his leg, but it doesn't seem to be too sore. However, he has spent the entire day, when not sleeping peacefully and well, screaming his head off. I've been keeping him hopped up on the Tylenol, but it doesn't seem to make a difference.
What really sucks is that it is impossible for us to know if the fussing is because of the shots, or if it's a continuation of the fuss-a-thon that has hit our house hard in the past week. And of course Dada did what all stupid Dadas do when we got home from the doctor, and asked me if I had brought up the topic of his excessive fussing with her. It completely slipped my mind, mainly because from the moment she entered the room he was a happy, cooing angel. The traitor.
So now I am stricken with the classic mommy inner turmoil -- is my baby okay, or is he sick? How the heck am I supposed to know?
Let me describe it to you.
*If I put him on the floor, sometimes he fusses right away, but sometimes not. He is perfectly happy to be on the floor for awhile if I sit right beside him and play with him or sing or talk to him, or if Big Brother is close enough to stare at.
*If I put him in the exersaucer, his Jumparoo, or his rocking chair, he starts screaming almost immediately.
*If I carry him around, he does not fuss. If Daddy carries him around and I am not in the room, he screams his little head off and, according to Dada, moves his head around in a panicky fashion as if looking for me.
This all makes for a LOT of fussing, but not constant, unrelenting fussing. And the boy, he sleeps just fine, especially when he sleeps next to me. In our completely unscientific opinion, it seems that what Jacob really wants is his mama. All the time. With no substitutes.
I wasn't too worried that something could be wrong until Dada suggested that I should have mentioned it to the doctor. And now my mind is forcibly jerked back to the story of a baby girl from our playgroup. The thing that struck you instantly about this girl upon meeting her, as we did when we started going to playgroup last August, was that she was just huge. I mean, bigger than some kids twice her age, easy. When we last saw her, her grandma, who took her to playgroup, said she weighed 32 pounds at her 15-month pediatrician's visit. For scale, Isaac weighed 29 pounds at his 2-year visit. Her mom came to playgroup once, and chatted it up with Ella's mom and I. Ella's mom remarked that this girl's mom was just obsessed with how big the girl was, and while it was completely obvious that the girl was big for her age, she was so sweet and very capable. She was a good sharer. She walked early. What does it matter? Some babies are just big.
While we were in Indianapolis about a month ago, I got an email from my friend Amy. Amy said that this girl's grandma had come to playgroup alone that day. About a month earlier, the girl had been diagnosed with cancer; two weeks earlier, she had passed away.
It's just tragic, a true parental nightmare. I didn't know this girl and her family well at all, and I know nothing of the details. But I can't help thinking about my darling and seriously bouncing Jacob. Was this girl's weight a precursor to her cancer? Is it in the least bit possible that the same thing might befall my Jacob? Now, before you say "No, Claire, no way!", think. How would I even know that something is going wrong?
posted by Claire at 10:05 PM
2 Comments:
I second that... call your Dr. We are all entitled to mommy freakouts! The doctor will reassure you more than any of us other mommies could because he has that fancy degree on the wall to back it up. And I'm 100% certain he won't think you are nuts.
Ugh i HATE HATE HATE hearing stories like that. Totally makes you question everything - which it should because it's new information and knowledge is power. But MAN it makes a mom question everything. Best wishes. Glad (after reading the most recent post) that Jacob is just hungry. Liam was about the same size. How's your back? It took mine a little bit to keep up with the demands. But now I'm totally jacked with muscles. HAH! Too bad it doesn't LOOK that way.
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