And, of course, logical me knows that this is total BS and I need to just let it go and know in my heart that my baby is very healthy and we're doing all the right things for her as best we can. Right?
No.
It slips into my brain. That little voice of doubt. Of course I'm aware she's thin. People comment on it all. the. time. I guess in today's America of acceptable obesity standards a skinny baby is something to worry about. Let me be clear, I think super chunky babies are freaking adorable. But I also think MY baby is pretty much the most adorable baby who ever sprung forth from a womb. It's hard for me not to compare her with other babies her age and wonder why she isn't over 20 lbs. It's a bit of a struggle not to pull out her brother's baby book and say, "Gulp, R was already 22lbs at one..." and not freak out a little wondering if I'm forgetting to feed her enough, or if my milk (oh yes, we're STILL nursing and I'm fine with that) is like diet root beer, or if she has some sort of growth problem, a faulty thyroid, freaky metabolism, whatever. Why can't we just be happy!? She's a little peanut of perfection and I'm damn proud of her!! But why of why are we comparing babies these days on these archaic piece of shit FORMULA standards?! And why does it bug me and make me worry?
Once again, I'm seeing these "standards" as being nothing but a means to put people into little groups and if you don't fit into the right peg, you are faulty. We need to reevaluate how we look at things. It's not like babies can be judged like Yorkies at an AKC Show. And even Yorkies shouldn't be judged!
Anyway, fortunately our pediatrician has common sense and, well, is not just looking at dots on graphs. She wasn't worried, but thanks a lot nurses for ruining my day.
