Five days of faith

My anxiety over baby weigh ins is coming back. I’d more or less become at ease with having my toddler weighed until her last appointment. Here we have well child nurses who do the weighing and measuring. Most people seem to have ineffectual but harmless ones, a few people seems to have good ones, but mine is subtly malicious. I’d been putting off going for the 21-24 month check. I figured I was going to get a lecture on how bad it was for my child not to drink milk and another suggestion of doping the milk with chocolate or sugar to get her to drink it. Believe it or not I was told by a doctor to do that. Then I swapped doctors. Some kids don’t like cow milk and that’s ok. But milk is some kind of odd holy grail of child nutrition. Whatever. There are plenty of other dairy products and fats in her diet so I wasn’t worried about the lack of milk drinking, just annoyed I assumed I would have to sit through a lecture.

Boy was I wrong. When asked how much milk she consumed I said, none, she doesn’t like it. And I braced for the lecture that didn’t come. I was told that was ok. However, rather than feeling better my stomach dropped because I knew, knew, that the nurse was going to find something else. She always did. Every visit has been an exercise in criticizing something about my parenting.  So at the end of the visit there it was. ‘She’s too fat’. Cue jaw drop from me. My 12 kilogram (27 pound) 23 month old is too fat. I was instructed to stop giving her snacks and the usual anti-obesity advice about not letting her have soda or sweets. We’re a soda free household, child only drinks water, not even juice, eats reasonably well, e.g. not picky, only whole foods. As processed as it gets is store bought pasta. Needless to say I went home and cried. I may not have even made it home. I probably cried in the car.

But now, rather than being obsessed over her weight gain I find myself looking at her body, wondering where the extra weight is. Because she’s not even remotely a chunky child aside from toddler belly.  She’s a lot smaller than most kids her age even. I feel in some ways like my whole life with her has been an eating disorder by proxy. I used to have panic attacks before getting her weighed when she was a baby, terrified her weight wouldn’t go up and I would have to supplement more than I already was. I now compare her mentally to other children and I still can’t see anything wrong, but now I wonder if I’m just deluded. I hate it. I’m terrified I’ll let it slip in my attitudes or behaviors and she’ll pick up on it.

I wanted to enter this next baby’s life without that anxiety over weight. I knew I’d have to go through the 5 days of faith to see how milk intake and gain was going. But now I’m back to being a panicky mess over it. Back to where the thought of a weigh in makes me want to vomit.

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2 Comments

  1. Cassandra

     /  June 20, 2012

    Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. The thought terrifies me too, such that Addie hasn’t been to a doctor in a year. My 20 month old is 45lbs! Well she’s also 37″, but still, she’s a chunk. I couldn’t handle it if anyone criticized me for her weight because I’m doing everything I possibly can to give her a good diet. As it was my mom criticized me for it, but at least with her I have the will power to yell at her and prove her wrong. Doctors and nurses have that bizarre power to make others feel weak. I’ve seen the pictures and videos of Lucy, she’s not a fat child, I wouldn’t even say she was chubby really. Some baby fat, sure, but that comes off easily with age. That nurse is just a mean spirited moron.

    Reply
    • I know it’s ridiculous. When I took Lucy to the doctor recently for something else the doctor said it was mean and unfounded even. It’s just completely eroded all the ability I had to not freak out and feel anxious over weigh ins. But! Done with that nurse and seriously debating whether I’ll take advantage of the service next time.

      Reply

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