I’m having a rough day, having a hard time opening my eyes to see the trees, much less the forest. I know there will be days like this and that it will get easier in time, but knowing that doesn’t make days like this any easier. Matthew has all the needs of a regular four-month-old, and, of course, many, many more. He sees twelve different specialists. Twelve. Just coordinating the appointments is mind-boggling. Factor in his eating issues and the normal childhood illnesses going around our house, and some days it’s a bit overwhelming.
I need to preface the rest of this post by saying I’m pretty excited about where Matthew is right now. He’s gaining weight (and we’ve worked HARD to make sure of that), he’s interacting, and he’s getting stronger. He’s not a typical kid, but we don’t judge him on those standards. We know that he has low muscle tone, we know that his weight is low, we know his head is small. Not only do we accept these issues, they are a small part of what makes him singularly unique and perfect.
All of that said, I dislike taking Matthew to his well-child visits. I don’t know if it is just our pediatrician or if every pediatrician would be the same, but she just can’t get past comparing Matthew to the “typical” kid. Today his weight is still in the single-digit percentiles of the growth curve; I was excited he didn’t slide down, the pediatrician seemed a bit disappointed he didn’t gain. His head size slipped off the curve. Hmmm … I can’t make his head grow. Unless you can fix it or refer us to someone else or you have a concern that you haven’t voiced to us, he’s FINE!
So yeah, today’s been rough, but tomorrow will be better; I’ll probably even be able to see the trees. I just wish I knew when I’d be able to see the forest.