Eighteen Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

I took Caitlin in for a check-up weeks ago, and in the most glaring example of my current inability to keep up with the documentation of my poor, neglected second baby's life, I haven't posted anything about it.

Not that there's anything interesting to post about it, really, but if I'm going to keep an online baby book that I can use in the future to look back fondly on this time with my girls when they were little, then I should probably do it right. Or, as right as posting some terrible iPhone pictures a couple of times a week can be considered, anyway.

Eighteen month stats, Caitlin:

Length: 33.25 inches (89th percentile)

(Eighteen months - 31.75/85th)

(Twelve months - 31.25/95th)

(Nine months - 28.5/78th)

(Six months - 26/67th)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 24lbs 0oz (45th percentile)

(Eighteen months - 22lbs 6.5oz/43rd)

(Twelve months - 20lbs 15.4oz/42nd)

(Nine months - 19lbs 3oz/54th)

(Six months - 16lbs 6oz/59th)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Eighteen month stats, Brigid:

Length: 33 inches (80th percentile)

(Eighteen months - 30.5/55th)

(Twelve months - 30.5/90th)

(Nine months - 27.5/50th)

(Six months - 26.25/75th)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 25lbs 3oz (65th percentile)

(Eighteen months - 24lbs 6oz/75th)

(Twelve months - 22lbs 14oz/70th)

(Nine months - 20lbs 14oz/80th)

(Six months - 17lbs 9oz/85th)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

The doctor went through her general spiel around whether Caitlin was walking, talking, and getting into things, at which point I decided hitting two out of the three isn't bad. When I told her that Caitlin wasn't, in fact, talking AT ALL, the doctor started flipping through her medical history, trying to see if there was anything that would point to a reason WHY this wasn't happening. But...Caitlin has been a relatively healthy baby (KNOCK ON ALL OF THE WOOD EVERYWHERE!!!), and there isn't any history of ear infections or poor hearing or anything else that might explain why my girl isn't talking, other than she just appears to be a really, really stubborn baby who won't pick up new tricks on anything other than her own (sloooooooow) schedule.

But! I told this doctor that I'd had the exact same conversation with Brigid's pediatrician at her 18-month check-up, as well. She laughed, and asked me if I was worried. I told her no, she said fine, and Caitlin got some shots.

The end.

And now I have six months to try to get her talking before her 2-year check-up, which is the next time we go in...

(Er, FIVE months, that is, since this all happened over a month ago, and Caitlin is no closer to talking now than she was then. Five months, Caitlin. Let's do this.)

Yo.

This week has been a crazy week. The holiday weekend threw me for a complete loop, schedule-wise, on the things I typically do around the house, because I chose fun over laundry. And I don't regret it, except for the part where Caitlin has no clean sheets or sleep sacks right now, because I'm a little behind on keeping her crap clean. Then there is this big deadline at work this week, which my team will most definitely not meet for reasons so far out of our control that we more or less knew that the deadline wouldn't be met before it was even set, but it's driven by senior management, so set it, we did. And I'm already working from home on Mondays and Fridays, so I can keep an eye on the girls, and while I do get work done, my productivity levels are nowhere near where they are when I'm in the office, so I have to cram a lot into my days, Tuesday through Thursday. Which usually works for me, except when there's a big deadline and I also end up missing one of those office days because Brigid is sick and I have to take her in to see the pediatrician for a strep test.

So. It's been fun.

Let's all just admire this super-cool baby, ok?

(In a true testament to how busy things have been for us lately, I have to take Caitlin in for her 18-month check-up on Monday, and I have completely forgotten to fret over how not-vocal she is at this stage. And by not-vocal, I mean she uses no words. Because we hear from her plenty, it's just never anything more than an indignant screech over our failure to read her mind and provide her with whatever it is that she wants without her actually having to ask for it. I'm just so relieved that she's actually walking now, saving me from that explanation, that this next milestone hasn't even registered with me, yet. Whatever. She'll get there when she gets there, I guess.

Oh, second kids...so much fun.)

And this is how I aged 15 years in two hours...

Last Wednesday evening, Steve thought Caitlin was feeling a little warm, and even though I didn't really feel anything out of the ordinary, we took her temperature. It came in at 100.6, and since the internet told me that 100.4 is considered a fever when you're taking the poor kid's temperature through her bum, I told Steve we shouldn't give her anything for the fever, yet. It was mild, and I'm in the camp that thinks a fever isn't necessarily bad, and you need to let your body do what it needs to do to fight whatever it's fighting.

Well, I was in that camp, anyway.

On Thursday, we left for work before Caitlin woke up, and neither one of us thought to tell Steve's mom that C had been warm the night before, so she maybe needed a little extra attention that day. And since Caitlin was mostly acting fine that day, the thought that she might be sick wasn't even on Karen's radar, at all.

Around 3pm, she thought Caitlin seemed a little groggy, so she took the baby up for her afternoon nap. While Karen was changing C's diaper, she started seizing. Karen called 911 for the paramedics, then my father-in-law to come get Brigid, then Steve to let him know what was happening. At 3:30, Steve was calling me, texting me, emailing me, and knocking on my office door as I was trying to give a year-end review to one of my employees, to tell me that we needed to leave right then, because Caitlin was leaving our house in an ambulance, and he didn't have all of the details, but she was unconscious, and maybe had stopped breathing at one point, and we needed to meet them at the hospital.

I barely held it together until we got into the car, and then I lost it. As I told Steve, I had a complete breakdown when our house sale fell through in November. Not panicking while my baby was on the way to the hospital in an ambulance was not an option for me.

We beat the ambulance to the children's hospital by about 20 minutes, because we were closer coming from work than they were in coming from the house, and they weren't treating it as an emergency run, because they thought Caitlin was mostly ok, so they weren't using the lights/sirens. While we were waiting, the EMT called me for some health history on Caitlin, and he was able to tell me that she was responding well, and they thought the fever was just a febrile seizure, meaning her temperature spiked too quickly for her body to handle, but there wouldn't be any last damage from it.

My mother-in-law had ridden in the ambulance with Caitlin, and at the hospital, she had to recount her story at least four times for various nurses and doctors. She also had to explain how Caitlin had managed to get her leg caught in the coffee table while Steve and I were out of town last weekend, leaving an impressive bruise on her poor little thigh, because she had twisted herself in there nice and tight.

In the end, they all agreed that it was a febrile seizure, and we needed to alternate her on Tylenol and Motrin every three hours to keep her fever (probably caused by the same virus that had Brigid up and vomiting at 3:30 Friday morning, but that's another story...) down, and we took Baby Caitlin home to eat all of the popsicles.

You'd better believe that kid is getting medicated at the slightest hint of a fever from now on, because this is dangerous or not, this is not something I ever want to have to experience again.

Poor baby...

Fifteen Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

As if I wasn't dreading Caitlin's morning appointment enough for the potential doctor-led scolding I was expecting, the powers that be decided to drop a heap of surprise road construction and one lane highways on me as well, meaning that my usually fifteen minute drive to the doctor took closer to an hour.

Also meaning that technically, I missed the appointment altogether.

See, my doctor has this rule about being more than fifteen minutes late, in that if you ARE more than fifteen minutes late, you get rescheduled to a later time, because SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING YOUR DOCTOR WAIT. And honestly, I get it. I do. I like to think that this rule will make me all kinds of happy in the future, when I'm not stuck waiting in the office for 30 minutes past my scheduled appointment, all because someone else couldn't get there in time for their appointment. It's probably a good thing for everyone.

But this morning? After I'd left my house at 8:40am to find traffic stopped dead about a mile from said house, after I'd called at 8:50am to tell them I was definitely going to be late because of said stopped traffic, after I'd called them AGAIN at 9:15 to tell them I was STILL at least ten minutes out from the office and STILL sitting in traffic and was there anything they could do to help me? After they put me on hold for five minutes while they tried to see if there was any possible way they could still see my baby today? After I remembered sitting in the exam room during the last well visit for close to twenty minutes between seeing the doctor and having the nurse finally come back to give Caitlin her shots?

I can't say I was too high on the rule at that point. In fact, I may have had a slight breakdown around the fact that I was already closing in on a 45 minute trip, AND I was already going to be late to work (which has been a roller coaster of stressful situations in and of itself these last few weeks), AND I had already stressed myself out enough around Caitlin not walking, AND I was NOT going to be thrilled if they tried to push us out to another day.

Anyway. The doctor was booked for the rest of the day, but there was an opening at 10:30am with the nurse practitioner, so when Caitlin and I showed up at the office shortly after 9:30am, we settled in for a wait, and at 10:27am*, we were finally called back.

I'll be interested to see what kind of sick visit we have ahead of us after an hour spent in the waiting room for her well visit appointment, but I guess that's neither here nor there...

And now...the stats!

(Caitlin got blood drawn from her finger and shots in her poor little thigh. I feel like you can sense the betrayal in her eyes through the picture below. She is judging me harshly...)

Fifteen month stats, Caitlin:

Length: 31.75 inches (85th percentile)

(Twelve months - 31.25/95th)

(Nine months - 28.5/78th)

(Six months - 26/67th)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 22lbs 6.5oz (43rd percentile)

(Twelve months - 20lbs 15.4oz/42nd)

(Nine months - 19lbs 3oz/54th)

(Six months - 16lbs 6oz/59th)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Fifteen month stats, Brigid:

Length: 30.5 inches (55th percentile)

(Twelve months - 30.5/90th)

(Nine months - 27.5/50th)

(Six months - 26.25/75th)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 24lbs 6oz (75th percentile)

(Twelve months - 22lbs 14oz/70th)

(Nine months - 20lbs 14oz/80th)

(Six months - 17lbs 9oz/85th)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

The NP asked if we had any concerns about Caitlin's ability to grasp things, which Caitlin answered by firmly grasping the NP's stethoscope and pulling it off of her neck. She asked if Caitlin could ask for things that she wanted through noises and pointing. She asked about playtime. Then she asked if we had any concerns about any of her other areas of development, at which point Caitlin kept trying to pull her socks back on over her feet, and I was all 'Oh, not at all. My kid knows how to dress herself already. See? She's really exceptional. She's trying to put her socks back on. But...uh...yeah. Now that you mention it...she's not walking, yet. BUT LOOK AT HER TRYING TO PULL HER SHIRT OVER HER HEAD!' The NP had Caitlin stand up, and said she's perfectly fine and more than ready to walk, she just must not want to do so right now. And then she told me to feed the kid more spinach (slightly low iron in the bloodwork results) and watch for more teeth (slightly higher white blood cells in the same results), and that was that.

And then I bought myself Subway to celebrate. The end.

*I was watching the clock intently, because if, as they kept telling me, so many other people were having problems getting in because of the traffic, too, didn't that mean there was a possibility that they could take me back early? Maybe? Please?

No. No it did not. You will wait your hour, and YOU WILL LIKE IT.

Missed Deadlines

When I took Caitlin in for her 12-month check-up back in December, we had just moved into our new house, so it was her first appointment with the new pediatrician that I'd found in our new city. Since the doctor didn't have any history with us, I think I was expecting some kind of deep background inquiry around what my kid could and couldn't do at this stage, but she simply asked all of the normal developmental questions for a one-year old, around what kind of sounds Caitlin was making, whether she was interactive with us, and of course, whether she was walking, yet.

Seeing as how Caitlin didn't really progress from army crawling to true crawling until something close to 10/11 months, the answer to the last question was not only 'no', it was a pretty emphatic 'HELL NO'. Not only was she NOT walking, she wasn't even close. She wasn't cruising around the furniture or behind a push toy. She wasn't trying to stand on her own. Heck, she wasn't even trying to stand with some assistance, since she wouldn't pull herself up into a standing position at all, for anything.

The doctor told me she wasn't too concerned at that point, since Caitlin was incredibly interactive in other ways, but that if she wasn't walking when we came back for the 15-month check-up, then she was 'going to want to talk about it'.

Tomorrow is that 15-month check-up. And Caitlin still isn't walking.

She's doing all of the other things she should have been doing three months ago, having finally learned to pull herself up against the furniture and walk with either adult (or big sister) or toy assistance, but as for standing on her own? Or even attempting to take a step on her own? We've had none of that.

And while I'm mildly worried about that fact that she seems to be so far behind in this developmental stage, I'm even more worried that the doctor is going to be concerned about how Caitlin is progressing at this age. Steve and I have been working with her for the last couple of months, trying to push the issue, but...

She just doesn't seem interested in walking. And I'm not sure how to remedy that fact, other than just wait it out.

I just hope the pediatrician is ok with that, too...

Twelve Month Check-up: Caitlin Edition

I finally took Caitlin in for her one-year check-up, only about three weeks after she officially hit that one-year mark. Considering I had to find a new pediatrician in order to take her in at all, and I am TERRIBLE at committing myself to finding a new anything in the professional services area of life, I'm pretty impressed with how on top of this I was. Nothing like a little vaccination schedule driven motivation to put the pressure on me to suck it up and be an adult, I guess.

 Twelve months stats, Caitlin:

Length: 31.25 inches (95th percentile)

(Nine months - 28.5/78th)

(Six months - 26/67th)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 20lbs 15.4oz (42nd percentile)

(Nine months - 19lbs 3oz/54th)

(Six months - 16lbs 6oz/59th)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Twelve months stats, Brigid:

Length: 30.5 inches (90th percentile)

(Nine months - 27.5/50th)

(Six months - 26.25/75th)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 22lbs 14oz (70th percentile)

(Nine months - 20lbs 14oz/80th)

(Six months - 17lbs 9oz/85th)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

Steve thinks we need to take Caitlin back in to ask the doctor if the poor kid has a tapeworm because there is absolutely no way that anyone who eats as much as she does on a daily basis should be anything under the 95th percentile in weight. Brigid is just mad at me because I took Caitlin in to get shots without her being there, and 'I promised baby Caitlin I'd sing to her when she got a shot so she wouldn't cry!'

She tried to make it up to her little sister by singing to her when I took the bandaids off of Caitlin's legs that night, but she got a little squeamish when I went to pull them off, and went running into the other room, because 'I just can't watch that, mommy.'

I'm not sure HOW she thought she was going to make it through the shots, honestly...

Four Year Check-Up

Stats: Height of just over 39 inches, weight of just over 41lbs, both of which place her squarely in the 50th-55th percentile. I just love my adorable little average baby girl.

Did you know that the four year check-up is the one where they start putting babies in little miniature hospital gowns?

Sorry, we took a lot of pictures during the appointment because we got bored while waiting for the nurse to come back in to administer the flu shot to Caitlin and three vaccines + flu shot for Brigid. Although...we were only bored up until the point when I started getting Brigid set up for her shots, and we realized that her night-night was not, in fact, in the diaper bag where it had been when we got out of the car. And the nurse went to retrace our steps to see if she could find it. And the doctor called the front desk to see if someone had turned a blue blanket in to them. And I ran out to the car to see if it had fallen out before we went into the office.

And the answer to all of these things was no.

I'm not going to lie, I was INCREDIBLY panicked at the thought that I'd lost Brigid's favorite thing in the whole entire world, but I stopped off at the front desk to double check that it wasn't there on my way back in from the car, and they actually DID have it. It's just...well, it's not exactly blue anymore. And it's an old sleep sack, not a blanket. So they had absolutely no idea what we were talking about when we'd called up to them in the first place.

Anyway, Caitlin screamed through her flu shot, but Brigid sang Rock A Bye Baby to her while it was happening, to comfort her, and it was the absolute sweetest thing in the entire world. Brigid is just such a wonderful big sister, I can't even believe how lucky we are in that regard. Of course, I then repaid her by holding her down while she got four shots of her own, so she might think twice before being that sweet again. But she perked up pretty quickly when I promised her we'd stop to get ice cream on the way home, and the nurse gave her some Sofia stickers, and she got a lollipop on the way out of the office, and by the time we made it to the car, it was like the shots had never even happened.

So maybe she won't hold that against me, after all.

Nine Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

Oh, my sweet baby just continues to grow up, despite my best efforts to stop her from doing so. Today she went in for her nine month check-up (where she got NO shots. I specifically scheduled the appointment for Steve's day with the girls, so that he would take the brunt of the shot association, and then she didn't even get any. I've been informed Brigid is scheduled for FIVE shots at her 4-yr appointment, at which point they want us to bring Caitlin in, too, for flu shot purposes, and I just KNOW I'm going to end up with that appointment. My children are going to hate me.), and she just keeps getting bigger. It's not fair, really.

At some point, I'm probably going to need to stop comparing my kids, because, I don't know, kids want to be their own people or some such nonsense, but I'm just so fascinated by how differently my children are developing. It's just fun to compare the stats, really...

Nine months stats, Caitlin:

Length: 28.5 inches (78th percentile)

(Six months - 26/67th)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 19lbs 3oz (54th percentile)

(Six months - 16lbs 6oz/59th)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Six months stats, Brigid:

Length: 27.5 inches (50th percentile)

(Six months - 26.25/75th)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 20lbs 14oz (almost 80th percentile)

(Six months - 17lbs 9oz/85th)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

(Also, I should probably mention the fact that Brigid was in the 85th percentile in head circumference, while Caitlin is in the 86th percentile. Those ladies have some large heads on them. Large heads, for large brains, of course.)

Six Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

Six months stats, Caitlin:

Length: 26 inches (67th percentile)

(Four months - 24.75/69th)

Weight: 16lbs 6oz (59th percentile)

(Four months - 13lbs 4oz/56th)

Six months stats, Brigid:

Length: 26 1/4 inches (75th percentile)

(Four months - 25/80th)

Weight: 17lbs 9oz (almost 85th percentile)

(Four months - 14lbs 10oz/75th)

Aw, look at my little peanut!

(The hat was courtesy of Brigid, who was beyond excited when we told her that Wednesday was Caitlin's half-birthday. She was, however, disappointed to learn that there would be no cake...)

Four Month Check-Up: Caitlin Edition

Caitlin had her four month check-up today, and as I am the same person who forgot when Brigid's spring pictures were at school (and let Steve send her in that day wearing a sweatshirt and the messiest pony-tail, ever) AND when the school Easter party was being held (meaning my daughter was picked up from school that day carrying a paper bag with her name written on it instead of an Easter basket brought from home, like the rest of the kids, and also, possibly, that she ended up stealing eggs from those same kids, since I'm still not sure whether we were supposed to send her in with treats or not), I forgot that Brigid didn't have school today when I made Caitlin's appointment.
So, instead of taking advantage of the vacation day and planning something fun for Brigid to do, we had a family field trip to the doctor's office for shots! Just how every kid wants to spend her morning, right?

On the other hand, dragging Brigid along with us while Caitlin got her vaccines meant that I had the chance to hear her sing 'Rock-a-Bye Baby' to her little sister, trying to calm her down when she was crying after the shots, so...
Yeah. My kids are pretty awesome.

Height: 24 3/4 inches - 69th percentile (Brigid: 25/80th)

Weight: 13lbs 14oz - 56th percentile (Brigid: 14lbs 10oz/75th)

Cheeks: completely kiss-worthy

Four Month Development Checklist: perfect

Pitiful Pearl

A few nights of no sleep for anyone in the family will ALWAYS buy the cause of that no sleep situation an early morning trip to the pediatrician.

Well, it will if the cause is a pitiful looking three-year old with huge circles under her eyes, anyway.
When the cause is a two-month old who will only sleep in weird positions, with her pacifier in her mouth, leading you to spend a majority of the night trying to sleep on the floor of her nursery so you are within arms' length of her and able replace that pacifier in her mouth when she wakes up every five minutes looking for it?

Well, then you're just out of luck.

(Brigid has walking pneumonia. And a prescription for antibiotics that she doesn't want to take. Good times, good tim

The price I'd pay for sleep...

You know how they say that you can't put a price on happiness? Well, it turns out, I can put a price on happiness when that happiness is caused by the enjoyment that sleep brings me.

And that price just so happens to be right around $200.

Because, after trying more tummy time, and a different kind of formula, and anti-gas drops, and holding Caitlin upright for an hour after each feeding, I had to call our pediatrician back this week to tell her that NOTHING IS WORKING. Caitlin is still waking herself up, choking, after a few hours of sleep each night. And that's after she can't even fall asleep to begin with because she keeps gurgling up her bottle every time I lay her down in her crib, no matter how long it's been since her last feeding or how many times I've managed to burp her. And then there's the back arching. And the acidic smell to her burps. And the constant wet sounds in the back of her throat and nose, even when no milk is coming out.

(And seriously, while I would like to get more than two consecutive hours of sleep, I could probably deal with it, if that was the only issue. But it's so sad to see your poor baby, who is utterly exhausted and trying so hard to fall asleep, wake herself up crying over and over again because she can't keep her dinner down. Even when dinner was an hour before she tried to fall asleep. And she's not even lying on her back, she's still in your arms, propped up. It's like, by the time the reflux symptoms from the last feeding fade away, it's time to eat again. We don't like this cycle.)

None of these things are good for my nerves or baby Caitlin's health, so the pediatrician called in a Prevacid prescription for us. And when I went to pick it up, they told me it would be $217. For 30 pills. Because there is no generic drug. And a new year means a new deductible. And babies are expensive.

Ok, that last part isn't really one of the reasons the prescription was so much money, but holy cats, it's the truth. In Caitlin's short life, we've paid for a heart scan, a cranium x-ray, a round or two of bloodwork, and now a reflux medication prescription. And she's absolutely worth every penny. Of course she is.

But you'd better believe I'm keeping track of all of this so I can hold it over her head someday when she's trying to con me into buying her a pair of $300 jeans or a new car or something.

'Sorry, kid, I can't buy you a designer purse because I spent all of my money protecting your esophagus when you were a month old. You're welcome.'

I am going to get WAY too much enjoyment out of that conversation, aren't I? Maybe the teen years are going to be more fun for me than I think...

One Month Check-up

Last night, Caitlin and Brigid decided sleep was for the weak. Or, maybe they didn't decide sleep was for the weak, so much as they decided sleep WASN'T for our family. Because between the two of them, and their various wake-up schedules, I got maybe three hours of sleep during the entire night, including one incredibly refreshing stretch of TWO WHOLE HOURS straight, before Caitlin woke me up for the day, and her doctor appointment this morning.

And because I don't do well on little sleep, so I was already on edge when we got to the doctor's office.

So, when our pediatrician informed me that even though the rather large and squishy hematoma Caitlin has had on her skull since birth has finally shrunk enough that you can actually feel the bone beneath it, she still couldn't feel that bone where she should? And that she wanted us to go get an x-ray to determine if maybe Caitlin had a skull fracture? Or even something worse?

I may have started crying on her, immediately. And I may have called Steve in tears from the examination room, while waiting for them to set up our referral to the imaging center. And I may have taken to Twitter with my general hysteria.

And after we went and had the x-rays taken? While we were waiting for our pediatrician to call us back with the results?

I may have gone off to eat my feelings at Waffle House.

I apologize for nothing.
Waffle House notwithstanding, we got the call shortly after this that the x-rays were fine, that the radiologist had seen bone, all intact, that we had nothing to worry about.

Just once, I'd like to have one of these check-ups pass with no drama, because I don't know WHEN the last time was that we were able to go to the doctor without having to worry about SOMETHING when we left. Once again, I'm convinced these kids are trying to make me crazy.

It's a good thing they're both so cute, is all I'm saying...

We'll all laugh about this someday...

As alluded to yesterday, Brigid has been having some issues in the 'movement' department.

(I know, I know. Two poop related posts in a row! I think this officially makes me a mommy blogger, or something...)

We thought, after this weekend, it was all cleared up, but apparently, we thought wrong.

Yesterday, around lunchtime, my mother-in-law called me to say that she thought Brigid may have a UTI, because she was grabbing at her diaper and SCREAMING at various intervals throughout lunch. She asked B if it hurt to potty, and B told her that it did, so I called the pediatrician to see if they had any openings in the afternoon, when we could get her in and get her checked. They scheduled us for 2:15pm, and off we went to see if there was anything wrong.

One very upset toddler and catheter combination later (seriously, Stephen, YOU OWE ME BIG TIME FOR PULLING PARENT DUTY ON THIS OUTING!@!#@), we were informed that everything was clear, and she was just the victim of a little external irritation that we needed to watch, if only to make sure it didn't get worse.

And everyone went home happy, right?

Oh, wait...no. That's actually when my pediatrician mentioned that she 'felt something in Brigid's abdomen' that she wanted to have checked right away. She thought B was most likely just constipated, but to be on the safe side, she wanted to send us for X-rays to make sure it wasn't anything serious. Comforting, no?

Well, off we went to the imaging center at the hospital, and one short hour and a couple of X-ray scans later, we were sent home with the knowledge that our pediatrician would be calling that evening with the results. And call, she did, with the announcement that Brigid was, in fact, still constipated, and we just needed to get some Miralax into her body and some additional fiber into her diet.

So, if you're keeping track at home, that's two trips to the hospital in the last month, with two series of X-rays taken, and two different diagnoses of ear infection and constipation.

Sometimes, I just feel like we're doing it all wrong.


(I am actually very happy that our pediatrician treats everything with the utmost caution. I really am. We would switch pediatricians in a heartbeat if we thought she was brushing off our concerns with no regard. And I am beyond grateful that nothing serious has been turned up in either instance.

But still...two series of X-rays. For an ear infection and constipation. My insurance company hates me right now, don't they?)

Two Year Check-Up

The stats:

Weight: 26lbs 9oz (53th percentile)

Length: 35 inches (80th percentile)

I was definitely expecting to get a talking to about Brigid's weight gain, since I could tell that my former Michelin baby was thinning out, but the doctor wasn't too concerned about it. She just wanted us to make sure that when B does eat, she's eating food that's good for her, instead of filling up on empty calories, which we already try to do, for the most part.

Also, even though her speech development is still a little slower than Steve or I would like, apparently we have nothing to worry about. She's fine, she's talking enough to ease any concerns we might have, she'll get to where we think she should be eventually.

I like my pediatrician, she's been on top of everything we've dealt with so far in Brigid's short little life, I'm going to take her word on this one.

So...perfect baby. Which we already knew, of course.

And now, some gratuitous shots of the pumpkin patch:

Heart of the Matter

We headed back to the cardiologist today, to check on the state of Brigid's heart condition...

...and so far, so good!

While the hole is still there (which we knew, since you can hear the murmur clear as anything, just by sticking your ear to the poor kid's chest), it isn't causing any problems with her heart valves, and there doesn't appear to be any chamber enlargement.

And she's just a really great sleeper, not a heart-issue-induced napper, which was almost the only thing that had us worried. And we don't have to go back for two years.

I can't even begin to tell you how grateful I am today...

Fever Baby

Hey, so, Brigid had a fever this weekend. And while I tried not to freak out, because, you know, toddlers get fevers all of the time, and it's no big deal, well...

We didn't quite make it through the weekend like we thought we would.

When I was getting Brigid ready for dinner on Friday, I realized she was feeling a little warm. So, we took her temperature, realized that she had a slight fever, treated it with Tylenol, then sent her to bed.

She woke up Saturday feeling fine, but as the day went on, the fever came back. A little more Tylenol, a cool bath, and she was fine for bedtime.

When she woke up on Sunday, though, she was a little furnace. And she was actually starting to act a little sick, too, because all she wanted to do was cuddle. And while it was sweet and all, B is not normally known for laying on the couch with daddy all of the way through an entire movie. So I was a little nervous that we couldn't wait until her pediatrician opened on Monday to take her in. And then, when her fever didn't respond to another dose of Tylenol at all that afternoon, we started to look into nearby urgent care centers to visit.

Of course, the one three minutes from our house doesn't take patients younger than two, so Steve drove her to a pediatric immediate care center forty minutes from our house. And, by the time they made it there, Brigid was acting fine. And I received three picture texts from Steve showing a happy baby just hanging out. And Brigid was diagnosed with a general virus that seems to be making the rounds across the area, and prescribed Motrin for the fever.

And despite a lovely 3am wake-up call that had Steve and I fumbling around in the dark for medicine and thermometers, Brigid woke up fever-free and happy this morning.

I'm pretty sure she was only clear because we took her in to be checked out on Sunday night, instead of waiting to make the appointment for Monday morning, but I guess it's better safe than sorry.

Maybe next time we'll make it all of the way through the weekend. But knowing us? Probably not...

Eighteen Month Check-Up

The stats:

Weight: 25lbs 3oz (good for 50-75th percentile)

Length: 33 inches (good for 75-90th percentile...woo!)

Of course, when I take Brigid in for a doctor appointment, she gets four shots at a time, and she cries with me the entire time we're there. When Steve takes her, she gets no shots, and she spends the appointment asleep on his chest. Shouldn't there be some kind of mommy rules that apply here, where I don't have to be the one she hates, yet? It doesn't seem quite fair to me.

What we learned:

 Brigid sleeps too much.

It's kind of our fault she's not talking, yet.

It's time for baby's first dental trip.

We were a little concerned with how much B sleeps, considering she's good for 12 hours a night, plus two naps a day, so I had Steve talk to the doctor about it. It turns out, she is on the 'high end of normal' when it comes to how much she sleeps, so we've been told it's time to work her into one nap a day, both for our convenience and B's development. I kind of think I'm going to miss that second nap a day...

As far as her speech abilities go, the doctor referred to it as 'first child syndrome', in that we aren't doing enough to encourage Brigid to talk to us. When she wants something, she points, and we get it. It's as simple as that. And that has to stop. I kind of think she's going to be the one to miss this little change...

And a dentist? That should go over really, really well, huh?

Fifteen Month Check-Up

I am absolutely sitting the eighteen month appointment out, because, after this morning, I think I've earned it.

That kid, she is not a fan of this whole doctor thing, at all. She was fine when I got her up this morning. She was fine in the car on the way to the office. She was fine in the waiting room at the office. The minute we hit the exam room?

Hysterics.

My poor, sweet, independent child clung to me like I was the only thing standing between her and absolute destruction. The nurse looked at her? Tears. The nurse tried to take her temperature? Screaming. The nurse tried to measure her head? Body flailing.

And it didn't stop for almost an hour.

Even when we were in the room alone, between visits from the nurse and doctor, she would calm down for a few minutes (while doing that heartbreaking hiccup-breathing that always follows a crying fit), before dissolving into tears again for absolutely no reason that I could see.

When the nurse finally came back at the end to give Brigid her shots, I prepared myself for the next level. I held her down, tried to tell her it would be ok, and waited for the screaming to reach the 'I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I CAN'T BREATHE' point...

...but it never happened!

Of course, she cried through the shots, but she wasn't crying any harder than she had when the doctor was listening to her heart. And as soon as the nurse put the band-aids on her chubby little thighs? Brigid was over the entire experience. I picked her up to put her jeans back on her? She started laughing. Apparently, the anticipation of what was coming was so bad that she worked herself into a frenzy, only to decide at the end that, eh...it wasn't so bad.

DRAMA QUEEN!

Anyway, Brigid weighed in at 24lbs 6oz (75th percentile) and was 30 1/2 inches long (50th-60th percentile). Head circumference was 47 1/4 cm (80th percentile). And the doctor said to give it another couple of months on the talking, because her understanding of everything seems fine, she's just not verbalizing anything yet. Which is exactly what all of you told me yesterday (thank you, thank you, thank you for the kind comments/emails!!!). And it's exactly what I've been telling myself. So I'll hold my freak-out in check until our next scheduled visit.

Honestly...I can't imagine where Brigid would be getting the drama trait from...

Just one more thing to make me nuts...

According to most child development websites (or whatever you'd call the sites that Google pulls up when you search 'what age do kids start talking?'), most babies start using actual words between 14-16 months. Meaning, right now, at 15 months and a couple of weeks, Brigid should have a word or two that Steve and I can recognize. But she doesn't.

Ordinarily, this wouldn't bother me, because with every milestone so far, I've pretty much figured she'd get to it when she got to it. And she has. But, when I took her in for her 12-month check-up, the pediatrician asked me if she was trying to repeat any words that she heard, and when I said no, she kind of glossed over it and moved on. And because I am paranoid, I took that to mean we were missing out on something already.

And now, I have her 15-month check-up scheduled for Friday, and I can already see the paperwork I have to fill out asking me to write down any words that Brigid can say, and I can see the pediatrician asking me if she's talking at all, and I can see her looking at me when I say no.

And I can see myself getting flustered and trying to explain how, I swear, one time she said 'nose'! When pointing at her nose! And I think sometimes she says 'stuck' when pulling on the faucet in the bathtub, because that's what I said to show her that it doesn't come off. And she definitely makes something along the lines of a 'vroom vroom' noise when playing with her toy car. That totally counts, right?!?!?

And since we're closing in on the 16-month mark, which is the age that Google says a pediatrician will request additional testing if your child isn't talking yet, I can see ourselves adding developmental doctors to the list of physicians we are familiar with in the Atlanta area. And I really, really, really don't want to have to do that.

In all reality, I don't think there is anything wrong with Brigid. I think she has her own way of getting her point across, and it's worked for her so far, and she just doesn't have any need for words right now. And our pediatrician is not really an alarmist when it comes to developmental milestones. But still...Google starts throwing around words that you don't want to see, and it's hard not to get worked up when you think your child might be falling behind. Already. At just over a year old.

That sound you hear? That's me banging my head against the wall, while telling myself to get over it already. I blame Google. And I blame myself for Googling, when I know I shouldn’t. It makes me ridiculous, even when I know I’m being ridiculous.

Like this parenting stuff wasn't already stressful enough...