The Good, the Bad and the Health Visitor

First up, excellent news that in a fortnight Wriggles has gained 220g! How this has happened, I have frankly no idea as she has been bypassing all feeds like nobodies business and is only interested in sucking Quavers which are not full of calories. However, I am not questioning this gain but merely proudly putting my little spot around the 2nd centile on the dreaded chart and am prepared to tell any paediatricians to bog off if they think otherwise.

Rather irritatingly, going to baby clinic for these frequent weigh-ins (not by choice but on orders of the hospital) means that I have to see the Health Visitors more often than I would otherwise. I am sure that out there, there are some marvellous health visitors, and although mine is not terrible, she is very good at winding me up. I know she is not trying to, and she has admitted she has little to no knowledge of prematurity or feeding disorders and doesn't really know how to help mothers who struggle with mental health, like PND or anxiety. But each time, her well-meaning but ignorant comments sting and I go home beginning to question again if I am good enough or if making it up as I go along just doesn't cut the mustard.
(What a stupid phrase; mustard is always spreadable) Once I get to the safety of my home, I relax and realise these doubts are just those: doubts. Insecurities that bubble away but are not true.

Today's gem was "in time you'll learn to relax about weight gain." I could be a lot more anxious about weight gain. I only go regularly because I am told to by numerous staff. and compared to some children with feeding issues, our fortnightly-monthly trips are relatively breezing in and out. Some children need weighing weekly and occasionally more frequently than that. I can think of at least twenty things off hand that are much more fun to do on one of my afternoons off than sit in a queue of a draughty hall being slightly patronised. I don't go for Wriggles' amusement; she hates being undressed! I am not so on the edge of my seat that I am plotting every last milligramme and running around shrieking hysterically about the missing 7 grams or so. I now that whether she looses or gains, it is effectively out of my hands. I am not going to entertain force feeding and she is already in high calorie nutritionally complete milk. I often go along thinking what is the point, but I don't want to start unnecessary arguments with the team supporting us.

Still on the plus side as we have had a good result, I think that means at least a four week holiday from the baby clinic. Who knows, I might even send my Health Visitor a postcard...