My little girl is sweet and petite. At her twelve month check up, we discovered she had slipped from the 25th percentile to the fifth, and my lovely GP (herself a mum to a little girl, and very reassuringly not alarmist) suggested we bring her back in a month's time to check her growth again. You may remember, this spurred me into pâté making revulsion in an effort to bulk the wee lass up.
It sort of worked- the next month she gained a smidgen of weight and grew a few millimetres. "One more month," the gp said calmly, not sold on my liver solution.
Well, last night, I took her back to the doctor for the next check up. I am miserable to say that she has not gained a single gram, nor grown even a speck, in one month. This puts her on the very bottom of the growth charts.
I know, I know.
There are teeny tiny people everywhere and she is probably one of them. But I am a foodie! An eater and food-maker from way back. I have long prided myself on my culinary love, and furthermore, worked slavishly to impart a love of good, wholesome foods to my children.
That is what worries me more. My little darling is a great eater. She loves her food. My gp says that if another month of static or near static growth passes then we will have to start investigating, just in case she isn't metabolising properly.
Has anyone else experienced this? I try to deny my naturally neurotic nature but sometimes it's just too strong. My brain is saying she is just perfectly petite, but my heart has started to tilt a little on its child-centric axis.. I think this might partly come back to being diabetic. How can I not forever carry a burden of guilt for the crappy start I gave my kids? Despite maintaining a near perfect HBa1C during both pregnancies, there were complications and difficulties and so now I feel this tummy tumble of worry and responsibility....have I done this to her? Is this my fault?
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