Monday, November 17, 2008

One pound

One pound.  It's not a lot of weight.  Just 16 little ounces... (I usually gain that much by simply walking past a bowl of ice cream; let's not discuss what happens when I actually allow myself to indulge in one!)

Well, last Thursday, "one pound" took on a whole new significance in our home. While at the doctor's office for Lollipop's 9-month well-check, I learned that she has only gained one ounce this past month. That's not enough weight to maintain her placement on the growth curve, and as a result, it's a cause for concern.  It came as a huge surprise to me... she's happy and apparently healthy; she's growing out of her clothes and reaching every other milestone as she should, but yet, her current weight is too low.  So, after a lengthy chat and a bit of reassurance, the good doc gave us our marching orders: a 1-pound weight gain in a month (that's the ideal, though she'd settle for 1/2-3/4 lb).  

Now, in my head, it makes perfect sense that Lolli just needs a few more calories each day.  It's just been in these last few weeks that she started sleeping through the night (that's one less nursing/day) and it was about the same time that she started crawling (that's a lot of extra activity/day).  So with less caloric intake and increased activity... sure, those are not optimal conditions for weight gain.  A little more food should surely solve the problem.  

But then the emotional me takes over and. I. panic.  And I cry.  And I despair.  And there's no doubt in my mind that said panic attacks are fueled by the devil himself (he knows exactly which buttons to push with me).  Certainly he enjoys seeing me in a frazzled state as I jump from one horrible possibility to the next.  These past two days haven't been pretty...

But no more.  The LORD has not given me a spirit of fear, but one of power and of love and of a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7), and I know that He is in control.  He loves all my babes even more than I do, and He will take care of my girl.  His peace that passes all understanding and His strength in place of my weakness will see us through.  So while I hold my babe close (and then stuff her precious face full of tasty things!), I can-- in all confidence-- lift my eyes to heaven and rejoice in the LORD.  Yes, His lovingkindnesses never cease, and His mercies are new every morning.  


60 toes said...

You know i can relate to this post. I am still sad that Sarah could never nurse. Do not despair, and feel free to call if you need to talk.

Katie said...

ahhh, the "emotional me." I've nicknamed her Emo. She knows just the right time to take over and make you feel like you're on a rollercoaster! But it looks like you've summoned the right One to bring Heather back and send "Emo" packing! :)

gretchen said...

I prayed this same verse over you this morning. maybe you need to review your Believing God notes. It may help. Still praying... break out that ice cream!