I met a lady in the lobby who was a former nurse and a foster mother to two babies. She had a medical binder as thick as my arm for the boy. He had a different chromosome disorder than Ezra, and she told me he had had open heart surgery. Meeting so many other kids with issues (from all the hospital trips we've had) makes me marvel at the human body, and at the human spirit.
When we finally got into our room, Ezra had a hard time. He is not loving hospitals nowadays. Any place where I have to take his clothes off, where there is crinkly paper on the squishy tables, and where people poke and prod him sends him into a panic. He cries and shuts down. I have to hold him the whole time.
They almost re-weighed him because he weighed less than their previous records of him. You know, the records they had from over ten months ago. I had to confirm, yes, he does weigh less than when he was four months old.
We finally met the doctor, and she was a no-nonsense business-like woman. She was there to solve our problems. She did no tests, she only asked about his history. She told me I needed to try harder with weaning him, with his eczema, with feeding him more calories. His current therapists weren't right for him, I needed a new and better team of people. I wasn't doing enough. What were my thoughts on the G-tube?
This is why doctor visits stress me out, it's aways like a slap in the face. It's not enough that I put on a song and dance show every time I want Ezra to eat more, that I pretend to be in love with the honey bear so that maybe he will try to drink from it one day. It is not enough that I am still breastfeeding him although I would like to be done so that I can finally start to lose my substantial baby weight (50 pounds isn't a fun amount of extra weight to carry). It is not enough that I schedule for him, even though I am not organized and do not prefer to spend my time driving to appointments. It's not enough that I work with his little body personally every day, knowing which muscles need to exercise. None of it will ever be enough for these doctors, because he still has problems. He still has low tone. He still has intestinal problems. He still isn't crawling. He still is below the weight charts. His head still isn't growing. I feel like I am failing a very important test, and these people are shaking their heads like you should have studied harder, Dummy. I want to yell "The test is rigged! I can't do any better than this! I'm trying my best."
So I told her I'm not opposed to the G-tube, but maybe it might be nice to try the NG-tube first because it is less invasive and doesn't require surgery. And really, could she give me a little bit more time to try to feed him normally? Ezra had lost weight due to a month of sickness, and he was doing so much better. He is never sluggish or dazed-looking, actually he is usually smiling and happy. He is feeding well now, and we started to turn a corner recently, could she please wait?
So now we need to go and get weight checks every two weeks. She gave me a list of people to call and things to get from the drugstore for his skin, for his food, for his colon. And so it goes.
And now for something completely different!
Easter. It happened. I dyed eggs with Asher and Gwen while Dan was gone. Asher says that his favorite color is pink right now, and that is fine by me. We, I mean the Easter Bunny, hid eggs inside because it is already starting to get hot. The Easter Bunny left some baskets for the kids with candy, a book, bubbles, games, and a toy. We watched an epic amount of church on TV. It was a great day.
