Growing Pains

"Failure to thrive"

My heart dropped down out of my body and slunk out the door. My kid wasn't growing, that much was abundantly clear. But "failure to thrive?" That brought to mind kids from neglectful homes, struggling to survive from lack of care. My little ball of lovable sunshine was as far from those images as I could get.

Yet, it was what it was.

For four months, sweet C didn't put on a bit of weight. Her height and head circumference grew a smidge, but not much. The truly alarming factor was that she had gone from the 90th percentile to practically off the charts. And while I'd heard time and time again that those charts are meant for a guideline, I also knew that a sharp drop in weight gain like that was something to be concerned over, percentages or not.

Initially, the doctor suggested I start supplementing, assuming that her main problem was a lack of milk from me. I agreed to start with a guilty conscience. If that were the problem, had I just gone 4 months into starving my own kid? But deep down, I suspected this wasn't the problem. She always ate thoroughly, finished happily, and very, very rarely would cry because she was hungry.

But we started the bottles anyway. And surprise, surprise, she decided she'd actually take one after all. (Before this point, she refused bottles with a mighty effort). She sometimes prefers to take a bottle than nurse, as it allows her to look all over the place while eating. But when she's mellow and sleepy, we still have sweet nursing sessions with her tucked into my lap.

In addition to the supplementing, her doctor sent us to the lab to get blood drawn.

The prospect of taking my baby in to give vials of blood freaked me right out.

I didn't sleep well the night before, I felt sick the whole time we were waiting. And then? We get into the room where the tech had me hold her hand down. She put the needle in, eventually found a vein, and drew the necessary blood. And the kid? Not even one whimper. She's a champ. I needed a hug afterwards, but she was all smiles. Trooper.

A few days ago, we got the results which were initially frustrating. The lab messed up the birth date and put mine in instead, thus running a report with her blood against ideal results for a 27 year old woman. Not exactly what we were looking for. But the doctor was able to hand chart most of the results and ruled out the biggies.

He did note that her immunoglobulins were low. Not crisis low, but low enough to note. This can suggest a few things, all of which are treatable and manageable. But in order to narrow down the options, he wants us to test her blood again this coming week.

Sheesh.

Anyway, that's where we are. Trying to pack the little one full of nutrients to help her grow. Trying to decipher what if anything, is amiss with her little body.
There's still that chance that she's just charting herself to be majorly tiny. Like Mommy.

And that wouldn't be a bad thing. We small people have WAY more places to hide during hide and seek.

All in all, keep us in your thoughts and prayers this coming week and as we wait for results. This could be nothing, and that's what we're hoping for. But on the off chance that something is not quite right, we'd appreciate the love!

(And really, how could someone that cute have anything wrong at all? You know?!)