Yesterday the pediatrician told me that my baby girl is too small. “Significantly underweight” is what she said. “Malnourished” is what I heard. “Bad mother” is what went through my head. “Failure” is what I felt.
Lately emotions have been hitting hard everywhere I turn. The pediatricians office, an innocent comment from the sick hubby, a stupid comment on facebook, even American Idol! It’s ridiculous.
This week has been a hard one full of sickness and managed stress. Mr. Sexy took three days off of work due to the plague. That was 3 days of taking care of all 3 kids, attempting to keep everyone eating food and not throwing it back up, homeschooling Marie and I even attempted to chop firewood for the first time ever. I was channeling my inner Olympic Champion this week.
Needless to say, she did not come out during the wood chopping ceremony.
When the pediatrician basically told me my baby girl was too small I was once again in a vulnerable state. Denai’s 4 shots she had a few minutes later didn’t help this.
Mr. Sexy is good to repeat back positivity in opposition to my tender heart.
“Denai is healthy.”
“Denai is beautiful.”
“Denai is happy.”
“You are a success.”
I’m so happy he is finally getting better.