March 2000
Dear
Doctor
Thank
you once again for helping me deliver my little boy. It was very sweet of you
to order me an epidural. I really was mighty chuffed, even though I
subsequently heard via the grapevine, that you didn't like to get out of your
bed unless absolutely necessary! Wow, that epidural did its trick, hey! It
managed to slow down my contractions and prolong my labour until you had
finished your eight hour sleep, have a leisurely breakfast and come
to work all dressed up in your suit. Ahem, hope you don't mind me telling you
this... but the white gumboots didn't look quite right!
Anyhow,
I just need to bring up a little something that has been bothering me for a few
months now. You see, Doctor...... I spent a lovely three days in hospital,
bonding with my little boy. Did you know that we took to breastfeeding easily
and that my baby actually gained weight before leaving the hospital!
The
first couple of weeks at home are a bit of a blur! That constant treadmill of
caring for a newborn, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Feeding, burping,
changing nappies, sleeping... you get my drift?
Doctor,
we then hit a little snag and the wheels fell off big time. My baby stopped
feeding! I would put him to the breast and he would suckle for 30 seconds and
then stop. I would wind him and try again. While I was going crazy mad over the
feeding issue, I was also spending hours carrying around a screaming baby.
Seriously, my life turned upside down. This pattern carried on for weeks until
I finally introduced solids at 4 months. He must have got some nourishment from
those quick 30 second feeds because he did put on weight. 25 GRAMS per week.
Did you hear me Doctor? ONLY 25 GRAMS per week!! I should have started solids
earlier, BUT I didn't!
Life
improved after solids...... until we started to notice that he wasn't reaching
his milestones. Initially I explained this away by saying that his older
sibling was a late developer. Again, this period of my life is a bit of a blur.
Understandable, don't you think?
Doctor,
he doesn't play, he is difficult to interact with, he doesn't explore, he
doesn't crawl, he doesn't babble! He does not POINT! He cries, he howls and he
cries some more. He won’t go to sleep and when he does sleep, he wakes up many
times throughout the night. I swaddle him up tight and pull him in close to my
body. I rock him, I bounce him, I cry over him, I push him in his buggy! My
heart is breaking into pieces.
Doctor,
something is going on with this kid. This is not the baby I ordered. Doctor,
please help me...... I had a normal pregnancy, I didn't smoke or drink, I
didn't take drugs..... Oops, I did take ONE tablet for serious nausea! Babies
are meant to be highly social little creatures. This baby is hard work. This is
not my baby, it can't be!
It's OK, I won't be cross.... just please take this
one back and give me my real baby. Please, PLEASE! I can't deal with this one.
Admit it, Doctor. You gave me the wrong baby!
