Yesterday was Cate’s one-month birthday, and today was her one-month doctor’s appointment. She now weighs 8 pounds, 8 1/2 ounces. That’s almost three pounds in a month! I knew she had gained quite a bit, because she has a little bit of a tummy, and she’s starting to get some adorable little fat rolls on her thighs. I think she now looks more like a normal, healthy baby, as opposed to the frighteningly tiny creature that I gave birth to last month. She’s also a couple of inches taller. At her one week appointment, she was in the 5th-10th percentile for height and weight, and now she’s in the 25th-50th percentile for both. Which is just about perfect, if you ask me.
The rest of the visit was all good: she has excellent muscle tone, reflexes, she’s just generally fantastic. As for getting her to sleep longer, the pediatrician nixed the rice cereal idea, which didn’t surprise me. She said what some of y’all said, that it’s an old wives’ tale. She gave me a couple of ideas of things to try, like more white noise – we leave the fan in the bathroom running, and the Pack n’ Play is right outside our bathroom door, but that may not be enough. She also said that there’s nothing wrong with letting her fall asleep in the swing at this point (although after she’s two months old, we’ll need to rethink that). She also suggested giving her more formula at bedtime; as long as she doesn’t spit up, we don’t need to worry that we’re over-feeding her.
But for the most part, it sounds like this lack of sleep is just something I’m going to have to suffer through for the next couple of months, which sucks. I know everyone means well when they tell me that Cate will sleep through the night eventually, but it makes me crazy. Of course I know that she will, but that doesn’t help me right now. For the past week or so, I really have felt like I’m losing my mind. I cry over nothing, and I seem to have this little Black Cloud of Doom hanging over my head all the time. I honestly have no idea if it’s solely sleep deprivation or if maybe I’m developing some degree of post-partum depression, so I don’t know how to deal with it. Do I see a doctor about it now, or wait until I’m a little more rested to see if I feel more like my old self again? I can’t figure it out.
Oh, and I’m officially done with breastfeeding. I was starting to hate it – Cate was barely getting anything from me, and it felt like a waste of time. I’d nurse her whenever she seemed hungry (every 3 hours, usually), and by the time we finished, she’d be starving and screaming her head off. I talked about it with the pediatrician, who’s as much an advocate of breastfeeding as anyone, and even she agreed that it was probably time for me to stop. If my milk supply was ever going to increase, it would’ve happened weeks ago. I gave it my best shot for a month, and that’s got to be enough. I don’t feel guilty and sad about it like I did last time, so I think I’ve made my peace with the whole thing. I’m actually kind of proud of myself for hanging in there as long as I did.