It's 1 a.m. and I'm up and the baby is asleep, D is asleep but strangely I can't sleep. Actually, it isn't to strange to me, I know why I'm up. I'm stressing and making myself overly anxious the way I guess all good mommy's do..hmmm.
Tuesday Camille had her 2 month check up. I was all worried and upset leading up to the appointment about her shots, four of them to be exact, but little did I realize that I really should had been more concerned about her weight. She only gained 1 lb. over 4 weeks bringing her grand total to 12 lbs. which puts her in the 75th percentile down from the 90th percentile. I wasn't alarmed when I heard her weight, she is on breastmilk exclusively with the exception of one 4 oz. bottle of formula a night. But apparently the doctor didn't like it. I haven't been to stressed about it until tonight when D let a little comment slip, almost accusatory in a way, like I'm not feeding her enough because I wanted to wait 15 minutes so I could give her the last feeding and rock her to sleep.
Now I can't sleep. What if all this work I'm doing, the pumping and all the fun rituals that go along with it, isn't enough. Ignorance is bliss and at times I forget but am quickly reminded like now after doing "research". This whole plan of mine is quickly taking a nose dive and is about to crash and burn forcing me to grab our life jackets full of formula as our last alternative. What if it isn't enough? What if I've done this whole thing wrong and those damn lactation jerks were right the whole time? Have I not pumped enough? Have I waited to long in between pumps so that I've diluted the fat content of the milk? Am I just a loser for not forcing her to the breast so then none of this would be an issue? Maybe I haven't eaten enough making my milk full of as many calories as water.
Yes, those are all rhetorical questions. This post is completely pointless except to say I'm stressed and now, here I thought I was beginning to really get a hold of this mommy thing and feel confident in my abilities and then a comment is made and my walls of security just crumbles and now, because of me and my desire for my child to follow some type of pattern maybe she's not gaining weight. And maybe that's what I deserve for not being some super woman and having my child strapped to my breast because I was to damn emotional to go through the whole forcing her off the bottle thing, now I'm paying because I really thought this other way would work.
I totally suck. I'm going to go now and finish kicking my own ass which I will most likely do daily until March 30 when I hear my fate. Oh lordy I hope she gains that extra pound.
And, to add to my guilt, I let her cry today because, dear God I needed a shower and she woke up from her nap and I should have fed her maybe instead of showering but it was 2:30 p.m. for goodness sakes.