Gametes In Love

This is a continuation of my weight-post from last night. Apparently, G’s not done with his weight-loss hints yet.

G was just going through our junk mail and decided to bring me a gift. How sweet! Of all the things he could find, guess what he picked? A free 1-day pass to Gold’s Gym.

What the heck, kid? Really? I mean, really?

The other day I was on the phone, sitting on the ground, while watching G play with our shoes. Yeah, it’s not quite a kid-friendly activity, but he likes rearranging them, and I was supervising him. I was on a work call and he was keeping quiet.

Well, when G decided he had had enough of the shoes he decided to crawl over to me and climb into my lap. Cute, right? Yeah, until I saw his true motive: to lift up my shirt and start poking me in the belly. It took everything I had not to laugh, but at the same time it was a little strange to be poked in my fatty bits. I pulled down my shirt, only for him to do it again. Hmnnn.

Then today he runs off with the remote control and manages to change the channel. To FitTV of all things! 900 TV channels and he gives me FitTV. Thanx kid! Trying to tell me something?

… or perhaps my lack there of. In summary, I am really, really unhappy with the way I look. And it’s my fault. Completely.

For the past year I have not been eating well, or in moderation. I’ve used breastfeeding as an excuse for over-eating, and my supply issues as a reason to not work-out.

Well, my figure is now rewarding me for the neglect with some nice poundage and flab. I hurry past the mirror heading to the shower to spare myself the disappointment. I look longingly at bodies of mothers at work and my mom’s group, envious of their willpower and ability to look fit.

But I am doing something about it. I promised myself that when G turned 1, and I started weaning I was going to do better for myself. I was a week late getting started, BUT I’m working out now daily. I’ve convinced S to do Jillian Michael’s “30 Day Shred” with me. I can find 20 minutes each day to work out, and we typically start after putting G to bed and dinner. We’re now on Day 10. It’s tiring, and I’m sore; liposuction has never sounded better, but I’m proud for making it 10 days. I’m really dedicated to making it through the 30 days.

Obviously there’s not much of a difference quite yet in my appearance, but I do feel better about myself. It’s certainly psychosomatic, but I’m not hating the mirror as much as I used to. Let’s see what I’ll have to say in another 20 days.

Meanwhile G’s been enjoying his mom and dad’s new toys (aka hand-weights). He got really mad trying to pick up a 5lb weight and not being able to. I mean really mad. It made me crack up. And take a picture.

Yeah, that’s how I feel at the end of every work-out too, Kid. Or having to work out for that matter.

I realize I owe an update on the latest of G’s weight issues. (This is a long one too, so go grab some popcorn.)

So good news is that he’s eating well… again. And he’s gaining weight… again. However, I’m skeptical over getting excited here since his trend is to pig out for a week or two and then scale back on eating. He’s almost like a hibernating bear, without the hibernation part.

We met with a speech and occupational therapist this past Tuesday. The appointment went well. G slobbered all over their toys and then munched down on his breakfast and sucked down a bottle, while being observed. All like a champ (of course ‘cuz he’s being monitored). Good news is that he doesn’t have any issues swallowing, or concerns with food texture or taste. I could have assessed that myself, but since I don’t have “MD” on the back of my name it’s good to have the pros rule it out.

Since they couldn’t figure anything out, they recommended an appointment with a nutritionist who can make some suggestions to G’s diet (to fatten him up).

My luck with our health insurance company was short lived. Whereas the speech and occupational therapist evaluation was easy to make and is (supposedly) covered, it doesn’t appear that the nutritionist visit will be. This will be for 2 reasons: 1) Aetna covers dietitian evaluations only if you’re diabetic; 2) the practice we’re referred to is not in network. While they bill to a taxid that is in network, they themselves are not. Don’t ask my how one is, but the other isn’t — this makes no sense to me. We could also find a dietitian that is in network, except that then we run into exclusion #1. Lovely, right? 🙂

We would consider paying out of pocket if the cost is reasonable, and there aren’t multiple return visits. However, the specialist office didn’t call me back today, so there’s no way for me to get those details. So now we wait until they do.

One thing that did strike me though was hearing the occupational therapist mention that our pedi had written “Failure to thrive” in G’s referral to them. While I know this was done (mostly) for insurance purposes, it stung to hear. “Failure to thrive” in my mind is what happens to malnourished children. I’d like to think of G as far from malnourished. And it bugs me to hear it because I’m still responsible for 95% of his daily caloric intake. In that respect “failure to thrive” is a direct affront to me. [Insert neurotic mom platitude here]

I shall now proceed to bore you with charts and data. This is mostly for personal future reference, so feel free to tune out if you’d like. Below are two graphs, tracking G’s weight and his placement on the percentile curve for weight. He was born in the 10%, jumped up to 25% (a short-lived visit), then declined to the 5% where he hung out for a few months, then declined to the 3%, then fell off the curve, went back on, and has now fallen off again. It’s primarily the curve hopping that has me concerned. If he wants to be a 3rd percentile baby, that’s fine, I’m ok with that — just let’s have some consistency.

He’s had 4 periods of weight-loss, most of which he bounced back from pretty quickly, except for the last bit where he kept loosing weight over the span of a month. He’s gained it all back and is now on track, but “Way to keep mom on her toes, G!”

Now my hungry bear is chowing things down pretty well. He’s feeding himself a lot these days too.  He actually pulls food out of your hand if you hand it to him, so he can do it himself. I love his independence! He’s also very eager to try whatever we’re eating. In some cases he gets pissed if he doesn’t get to share your food. Luckily he’s liked most everything we’ve given him. Even Ms. F at daycare is impressed with his interest in food. All this stuff is really good! I can only hope we’ve turned a permanent corner here and we’re not about to plunge into another weight-gain valley.

This concludes my neurotic vent for the week. We’ll be back to happier topics soon.

G’s about to get a Nutritionist added to his team of health care providers. Why, you may ask? Well, let me tell you.

If you’ve been following G’s story for awhile, you know that I am very sensitive about his weight. I’ve reconciled that he’ll be a 3rd percentile, babe as long as he stays on the visible curve. I jokingly call him my Skinny Minny, but given his history of weight-loss and my supply drama, I’m really watchful over how much he eats. This is why for the past two weeks I’ve been on “Orange Alert” as G has brought home half of his food each day from daycare.

G normally nurses morning and evenings and gets 24oz of milk, bottled through the day. In addition he’ll eat 1-1.5 jars of Stage 2 solids. Instead, he’s been nursing only once, taking 12-16oz and at most half a jar of solids. As this coincided with his crawling, at first I thought it was normal (you know, wanting to move around instead of eat). However the fact that this has gone on for more than a week paired with the fact that he hasn’t gained any weight in over a month, made me decide to call his pediatrician.

Honestly I expected a conversation with an advice nurse with some reassurance that this is normal for G’s age. Instead I got an appointment with G’s doctor, a lengthy conversation, and a referral to see a nutritionist. I had the preliminary nutritionist phone interview yesterday (where they filter the overly paranoid parents from the ones that really need an appointment). The specialist informed me irregardless of food intake, it’s not normal to not gain any weight as for as long as G has, and the food reduction was not normal for his current age group. So, she recommended a feeding study.

I’m waiting for the scheduling people to call me so that we can book an appointment. I’m also going to need to call Aetna to confirm that it’s covered by insurance (and if not what this will cost). I’d like to think that this is covered, but lactation consultations aren’t, even when G was loosing weight back in Dec. Who knows what excuse they’ll give me for the nutritionist referral. Ugh, I’m so not looking forward to more insurance company drama.

I’m glad that we’re getting this attention, but really, all I wanted was some platitude and a pat on the head telling me I’m being too paranoid. Stay tuned…

As it turns out the East Coast in the summer is a bit on the toasty side. Toasty an humid. This means hot-weather clothes. Now being a Northen CA girl who spends most of her days indoors, I’m quite comfortable in jeans. That’s right — full legged jeans. I do own a few pairs of shorts, it’s just a rarety to see me dawn them on.

However, after S brought up how hot it would be out East, I figured “Eh, I might as well as throw a pair or two in my bag”. This I did.

Well, come yesterday as I acknowledge that it is in fact hot, and it is in fact shorts weather, I decide to put one of said packed shorts on. Now, I should note that I packed shorts that I last wore 2 years ago. Being pregnant, and “larger than usual” last summer, I had no need (or ability) to wear those particular pairs of shorts. As I put them on I noted how snug they were. And then came the velcro fasten. The pair I dug out of my luggage had velcro instead of a zipper. I velcroed on, took a breath, only to immediately hear the velcro undo itself all the way down. Yeah, that’s when I realized that my lovely blue shorts no longer fit and that I don’t quite look the way I used to.

That same afternoon as we did a quick Target run to pick up the common baby supplies we decided to just buy after we arrived (and spare ourselves in packing weight) I looked for some new shorts. I went into the fitting room not once, but twice, because it took me awhile to figure out what size I was.

Let’s just say I am not pleased!

I can’t say this is pregnancy’s fault though. I’ve regained my pre-baby weight, but the flab that accompanied the poundage has stuck around, and my dietary habits are certainly not encouraging it to pack it’s bags. Worse yet, I’m not working out and live a happily sedentary lifestyle. I blame it on the nursing, as I am very paranoid that weight loss and exercise will tank my supply to obscurity.

In a few months though I will have no more excuses. I want to look at myself in the mirror and see my abs again. I miss those! I don’t know that I’ll ever have those again, but can I please get close? I’m not loving my acquired love handles 🙁

I’ve been within 2-3lbs of my pre-pregnancy weight for a couple of months now, but it wasn’t until today that I can happily report that I’m back to pre-pregnancy weight (a little under actually). That last one has stubbornly been hanging on since Christmas.

But it’s gone. Ha! Take that you stubborn pound!!!

… now, if only the extra skin (also known as pouch belly) could also get the hint and pack it’s bags…

Oh, and just ‘cuz I’m a nerd and I like graphs here’s a pretty chart of my progress over the pregnancy. Now stop laughing!

I’m a glutton for punishment. Last night after a carb-o-licious day of meals I decided to get on a scale and see which way the numbers are tilting these days.

Woe and behold, after the little “calculating” animation, 106.6lb!!!

This I saw and went “Whaaaaa?” Now, I’ve heard that breastfeeding can help you keep weight down, but going back to Jr. High weight isn’t something I’d heard of before.

So I pull out the scale a little further out into the bathroom, hearing some crunching noises along the way. I step on it… more crunching… 113lb. Close, but still unbelievable. What is going on?

I look down at the scale and notice little cat-food bits along the drag path. I guess Neko has been storing some “reserves” for a rainy day under our scale. It was uneven when I first stepped on, so not exactly at it’s accurate best. I cleaned it all off, and re-weighed. Finally a weight I would believe (and wouldn’t you like to know what it is?)

So next time you want to loose lots of weight fast? Just put some kitty bits on the floor and go nuts.

In other not-so-pleasant news, Mother Nature has decided that she’s missed me and has returned for her monthly visits. I’m not thrilled! I was kind of enjoying living pad and tampon free for the while. I genuinely hoped that as long as I was breastfeeding she’ll stay away. Now my milk supply is dropping, I’m tired and I’m moody. Oh, joy!

Yesterday marked the 5th (and last) day of exclusively pumping and feeding per the experiment we’re running with our lactation consultant. I cheated once and nursed him instead of a bottle, but every other feeding was as prescribed.

I am happy to report a 6.5oz weight gain over last Monday. 10lb 7.4oz on 12/8, today 10lb 14oz. That’s nekkid baby and everything.

I’m thrilled… but I don’t know what it means. I’ve managed to scrape by the necessary 27oz. It’s been close every day, but I’ve done it. Based on this our lactation consultant thinks it might be an issue with him drawing enough, but I think it’s probably a pairing between that and a supply issue on my end. We’ll be reviewing my tedious data gathering on Wednesday, though, and hopefully that will pinpoint things a little bit more.

The last five days of pumping and feeding have both been wonderful and hell at the same time.

Wonderful because:

1. being able to feed him in the car (even while moving), or in a restaurant, or in a department store… wherever… without having to find comfortable seating, cover up, etc. is nice

2. S gets to do at least one feeding a day and spend time with G. I love daddy and G time. I also love “me” time 🙂

3. I’m not sure if it’s related, but G has slept through the night every night that we did a day of bottle-feeding. I’m talking 7:30pm – 7:00am (sometimes later) sleep through the night with no wake-ups.

Hell because:

1. G and S can both sleep through the night, but I still have to get up at 3am to pump, and stay up late until 10:00-10:30ish to pump once more before sleep.

2. Pumping while interacting with an attention needy child is difficult

3. Have I mentioned how horrible my hands look now? I feel like I do nothing but wash bottles these days. Bottles to pump into, other bottles to feed out of — I have bottles in my nightmares and my hands, I swear, feel like sandpaper.

In a way last week was good practice for when I return to work, but it also makes me realize I’ll get a little of both worlds. I get to feed G half of the time, and he gets a bottle the other half.

So that’s our news. We have one week of a weight gaining baby. We still have a ways to go in order for him to get back on the graph (he’s still below the 3rd percentile for his age group), but hey, it’s a step forward.

In my naivety, pre-childbirth I had idealized that I would exclusively pump and then feed G the expressed milk. G would still benefit from the breast-milk, S could bond with him more through feeding himself, and so on and so forth. My first nursing session as a result felt a bit awkward. It wasn’t my plan! What if I was setting myself a bad precedent?

And then I got over it and forgot all about it… and little be knowns to me, became quite attached to nursing.

How do I know this? Because the lactation consultant at our pedi’s office has asked me to exclusively pump for the next week in an attempt to rule out a few more things related to G’s recent weight issues. This way we’ll know if a) I am not producing enough; or b) G is not pulling enough from me despite the available supply. If both of these turn out to not be true… well, then we go into the pediatrician with this additional information and start pursuing other avenues.

So now I have to pump, note the time & quantity of each session, feed and then note his behavior and mood throughout the day. Luckily I’m already tracking 90% of the above (thank you Trixietracker!) for quite some time now so pulling up that data won’t be difficult. We do this for 5 days. On Monday I go in for another weight check and have another consultation.

5 days might not seem like much, but the logistics around it are making my head spin. My idea of exclusively pumping now seems so impossible. How do I get out of my house now? How do I manage to pump and keep G happy at the same time? He’s a pretty high maintenance kid, and won’t patiently wait by while I pump. I already have milk ready so that he doesn’t have to wait for me to pump to eat, but still…

This is what we’ll have to do when I get back to work, but it sounds easier having to pump while in the office — at least there I don’t have a little boy demanding my attention while I do so.

At his weight check this past Monday, G had not only NOT gained any weight, or even stayed the same as he had in previous weeks, he’s now lost weight.

I’m scared… and sad.

Scared, because what if this test shows it is me? Worse… what if it’s him?

Sad? Yeah, sad! I can’t explain this portion. My logical mind tells me to get over it, and deal with the issue at hand. Yet, I still can’t shake the fact that I’ve enjoyed having this experience with him, and I feel like it’s being taken away from me. I no longer feel as special… as important to him… adequate.

The weird part is that given my family history, I always knew there would be a chance (a good one mind you) that I might not be able to provide for my child. I told myself to embrace each day I’d be able to nurse him as a gift. Except that I didn’t. I took it for granted. And now that there’s a chance this might be over for us, all these feelings are coming up to bite me in the rear.

I hate feeling this way! I hate that we’re here!