When T was born, he was 9lbs 5oz. A very healthy baby. We brought him to the pediatrician yesterday and he was only 14 lbs at 4.5 months. They said he was at risk of being malnourished. And when you’re the one feeding him… Nursing him everyday… That can make you feel terrible. Inadequate. A failure.
This morning I had an important meeting out of town. My husband was supposed to tell our daycare to give T frozen milk at 10AM but he got mixed up and told them that I would be there at 10AM. So, in the middle of my meeting- at 10:45- I get a call asking where I am. He didn’t get fed until 11:15. You just don’t understand the anxiety that causes until you have your own baby.
My hands are shaking and, as I sit here pumping in a strange and exposed office, all I want to do is cry. Quit and cry. That responsibility of feeding and keeping another human alive is a huge weight. I feel like I’m failing.
God, give me strength and reassurance today. Please help me forgive myself and give me the strength to carry on. Bless my baby.