Never mind about the birthday party post with all the pictures. That will have to wait until later tonight or tomorrow. Something much more pressing has happened worth talking about today.
Patrick had his one-year check-up today. For the most part it was routine. We got there early and got taken back to an exam room a few minutes early. He got weighed and measured. He is now 15 lbs, 12.4 oz (less than 3rd percentile, even adjusted age), 28 inches long (5th percentile actual age), and his head circumference was in the 30th percentile for his actual age. That means he still has a huge noggin, is still somewhat tall for his size (if that makes sense), and is underweight. I don't get it.
For at least twenty minutes after he got measured, I worked hard to entertain Patrick. He was bored and wanted to either play on the floor or take a nap, which he refuses to do unless he's in bed--or maybe the car. I resorted to feeding him cereal to keep him happy and entertained. Finally the doctor showed up at that point.
He thought Patrick looked fine. He gave me the routine spiels about feeding, how he'll get pickier soon, etc., and which shots to expect. I specifically asked about him not crawling yet, and he said it wasn't time to be concerned yet, especially since he was at least making progress with scooting on his belly. He discussed the Synagis issue with me as well. I've been meaning to mention this for several days and kept forgetting. Apparently our insurance has denied the doctor's request for more Synagis shots for him this year. It's still debatable whether preemies should get them their second winter, and our insurance opted for the cheaper option instead of the safer one. So the doctor advised keeping Patrick away from other kids again this winter and reviewed some of the other precautions we should take.
He was all set to declare Patrick perfect when I asked again whether he was concerned at how little Patrick had gained since his last visit (up about a pound and a quarter in three months). When he stopped to actually look at the weight, he was surprised. Patrick doesn't look like he could possibly weigh that little, with his pudgy belly and thigh rolls. The doctor was concerned somewhat once I pointed it out. We are going for monthly weight checks until he's fifteen months and stuffing his face in the meantime. That spiel about carefully monitoring snacks the doctor gave earlier? Yeah, throw that out the window and give Patrick food every possible second he will take food. I pulled the cereal back out and started the snacking all over again.
Then came the interminable wait for the nurse to show up with his shots. Patrick was getting even more squirmy than before, and the fussiness followed shortly. At one point after throwing a toy on the floor yet again, I leaned down to pick it up and he leaned over with me. As he leaned over, he threw up cereal all over the floor. (And I now understand the difference between spit-up and puke: puke stinks much, much worse.) I cleaned it up the best I could with the burp rag and proceeded to pace around the exam room. My back was sore from the car rides this weekend and for some reason my knee suddenly started hurting. But Patrick wouldn't let me sit down. He even cried some while I paced the room.
Another twenty minutes later, the nurse came back with his shots. Fussy Patrick instantly transformed into Flirty Patrick. He was more than happy to let her hold him, a treat withheld from even the grandmas this weekend, as long as it was only for a minute. It wasn't until the second shot that he realized the nurse wasn't all fun. He was screaming at full volume by the fourth shot. He still let go of me long enough for one last flirt as the nurse left us, though.
Then the real screaming began. He screamed while I strapped him in his stroller. He screamed while I paid out. He screamed while I set up two weight-check appointments and the eighteen-month check-up. He was oddly pacified while on the elevator, but then he screamed again while I put him in his carseat. Then he screamed half the way home. I guess when the screaming stopped, he finally fell asleep.
He screamed one last time as I brought him in the house and put him down for his long-awaited nap. And finally, finally, he is now sleeping comfortably. I would be thrilled if I didn't hear him cry again for the rest of the day. I've probably earned at least that much of a break after putting up with that much crying. My big boy turned into a crybaby for the day.
Update: We fed him and fed him and fed him tonight for dinner. He ate 10 oz of Gerber's food and then munched on pieces of chicken from our dinner and the usual Cheerios. He still wanted to sip at his whole milk after that. If that doesn't help him pack on the pounds, I don't know what will!
Patrick had his one-year check-up today. For the most part it was routine. We got there early and got taken back to an exam room a few minutes early. He got weighed and measured. He is now 15 lbs, 12.4 oz (less than 3rd percentile, even adjusted age), 28 inches long (5th percentile actual age), and his head circumference was in the 30th percentile for his actual age. That means he still has a huge noggin, is still somewhat tall for his size (if that makes sense), and is underweight. I don't get it.
For at least twenty minutes after he got measured, I worked hard to entertain Patrick. He was bored and wanted to either play on the floor or take a nap, which he refuses to do unless he's in bed--or maybe the car. I resorted to feeding him cereal to keep him happy and entertained. Finally the doctor showed up at that point.
He thought Patrick looked fine. He gave me the routine spiels about feeding, how he'll get pickier soon, etc., and which shots to expect. I specifically asked about him not crawling yet, and he said it wasn't time to be concerned yet, especially since he was at least making progress with scooting on his belly. He discussed the Synagis issue with me as well. I've been meaning to mention this for several days and kept forgetting. Apparently our insurance has denied the doctor's request for more Synagis shots for him this year. It's still debatable whether preemies should get them their second winter, and our insurance opted for the cheaper option instead of the safer one. So the doctor advised keeping Patrick away from other kids again this winter and reviewed some of the other precautions we should take.
He was all set to declare Patrick perfect when I asked again whether he was concerned at how little Patrick had gained since his last visit (up about a pound and a quarter in three months). When he stopped to actually look at the weight, he was surprised. Patrick doesn't look like he could possibly weigh that little, with his pudgy belly and thigh rolls. The doctor was concerned somewhat once I pointed it out. We are going for monthly weight checks until he's fifteen months and stuffing his face in the meantime. That spiel about carefully monitoring snacks the doctor gave earlier? Yeah, throw that out the window and give Patrick food every possible second he will take food. I pulled the cereal back out and started the snacking all over again.
Then came the interminable wait for the nurse to show up with his shots. Patrick was getting even more squirmy than before, and the fussiness followed shortly. At one point after throwing a toy on the floor yet again, I leaned down to pick it up and he leaned over with me. As he leaned over, he threw up cereal all over the floor. (And I now understand the difference between spit-up and puke: puke stinks much, much worse.) I cleaned it up the best I could with the burp rag and proceeded to pace around the exam room. My back was sore from the car rides this weekend and for some reason my knee suddenly started hurting. But Patrick wouldn't let me sit down. He even cried some while I paced the room.
Another twenty minutes later, the nurse came back with his shots. Fussy Patrick instantly transformed into Flirty Patrick. He was more than happy to let her hold him, a treat withheld from even the grandmas this weekend, as long as it was only for a minute. It wasn't until the second shot that he realized the nurse wasn't all fun. He was screaming at full volume by the fourth shot. He still let go of me long enough for one last flirt as the nurse left us, though.
Then the real screaming began. He screamed while I strapped him in his stroller. He screamed while I paid out. He screamed while I set up two weight-check appointments and the eighteen-month check-up. He was oddly pacified while on the elevator, but then he screamed again while I put him in his carseat. Then he screamed half the way home. I guess when the screaming stopped, he finally fell asleep.
He screamed one last time as I brought him in the house and put him down for his long-awaited nap. And finally, finally, he is now sleeping comfortably. I would be thrilled if I didn't hear him cry again for the rest of the day. I've probably earned at least that much of a break after putting up with that much crying. My big boy turned into a crybaby for the day.
Update: We fed him and fed him and fed him tonight for dinner. He ate 10 oz of Gerber's food and then munched on pieces of chicken from our dinner and the usual Cheerios. He still wanted to sip at his whole milk after that. If that doesn't help him pack on the pounds, I don't know what will!
Labels: Feeding, Frustration, Special Events/Outings
1 Comments:
It sounds like you had a good visit overall. It will be fun to see how much he can eat if you feed him at every chance! I'm glad he confirmed that you don't need to worry about the not crawling. I'll predict he'll be moving all over the place before very long.
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