Today Sam and Aaron saw their pediatrician.
We discovered the dark bruises on Aaron’s hand and foot are Mongolian spots. They are common among people of Asian descent. Jack had one on his butt when he was born that eventually went away.
Sam weighed in at 6 pounds 11 ounces, down 6% from his birth weight of 7 pounds 2 ounces.
Aaron was also 6 pounds 11 ounce, down 2% from his birth weight of 6 pounds 13 ounces.
I was disappointed, especially by Sam’s weight. With Jack and Ben, the one week appointment with the pediatrician was a testament of how ready my body was to support another life. They both weighed in above their birth weights.
Since my milk came in, I haven’t given Aaron any formula. He feeds every 2 and 1/2 to 3 hours, falls asleep easily and hardly ever fusses.
Sam, on the other hand, seems to need a top up, just a couple ounces, of formula every now and then. Like every other day or so. Leading up to the point where I break down and use formula, Sam is increasingly fussy and spastic. Once I give him formula, or the magic sauce as I like to call it, he calms immediately. But until I saw his weight today, I wasn’t convinced I should use formula on him.
I thought, if I use formula, he’ll get used to it and my body won’t produce enough for him. The past two days I was able to pump an extra 10 ounces out. Surely the milk is there, he just needs to work harder?
The pediatrician had to talk to me about not trying to be super mom. Which is too bad, because I already had a color scheme for my cape picked out. White and brown, to cover the spit up and poop. Also because I’m like a milking cow right now!
He also said not to let them sleep on you all night like I’ve been doing. Try each time to put them in the crib. And so it starts. Right from birth, the slow, painful separation that will culminate at 18 years of age.
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