Yesterday was Birdies appointment at the pediatric endocrinologist. We learned that she could possibly have a mild case of hypothyroidism. Or, she could have still been getting some kind of antibody from my hypothyroidism that would make it look like she had it when she didn't. At this point that antibody should be out of her system, so they wanted us to get more blood work done to be sure. If she is borderline then they want us to give her medicine everyday for the next few years to be sure that she keeps growing well and at the pace she should. Essentially, it's all no big deal. They weighed and measured her and she is well above average for her age (like 75th percentile for her weight).
Honestly, when they told me that she was growing just fine. More then fine. It was like this fog lifted from around me and all the sudden I saw my baby the way everyone else did. Instead of her being this sick baby that I had to worry about, I saw this happy, chubby little girl for the first time really. She has chubby cheeks, a round tummy, and most definitely more then one chin. She's fine. And so I stopped worrying about how long she was sleeping and how much she was eating. I felt a huge wave of relief.
That's not to say I'm not going to worry about her anymore. By afternoon I was convinced that the warmer weather had overheated her and she was dehydrated. Not for long though. What I realized was that I'm always going to worry about Birdie more. Always. The events that transpired in the first month of her life changed me and changed my relationship with her. But that's life. That's what happens. I'm always going to find something to keep an extra eye on with her, but I'll try to keep myself in check. We'll see how it goes.
That part of yesterday was a huge relief. The part that was so hard was the blood test we had to get done. When they did the blood work a few weeks ago the guy got a vein and it was no big deal. Yesterday, it was a big deal. We were at the blood place for over an hour and a half. They couldn't find a vein. Birdie was screaming. I was trying hard not to cry. Finally they had to do a heel stick to fill 6 vials of blood. 6 vials. Yes, they were little ones, but they had to fill them drop by drop out of her heel and she cried the whole time.
All I wanted to do was just make it stop. The woman kept telling us that her crying was good, it made the blood flow faster so that it would be over faster. I had a hard time being on board with that. I nursed Birdie in between sticks to try and do anything I could to make her feel better and then after it was all over we had a long snuggle and she slept the whole rest of the afternoon. I didn't blame her a bit and left her alone so she could sleep it off.
It just breaks my heart watching her hurt so much. I wish I could do it for her. Part of me wants to slow down time so I can take in every moment with my girls for that much longer, but part of me wants to speed it up so those little veins of hers will get bigger and this won't hurt her so much. For today though we're enjoying our new life as a healthy, chubby baby and her mama. I feel like I can breath again, she probably is thrilled to get a decent nap without me hovering over her, and things don't seem so scary. It feels like spring came at just the right time and exactly when we all needed it. The sun is finally starting to shine in so many ways.