The 4 month doctor visit

We just had our 4 month well baby visit. I was pretty excited to go to get to see how big she is now and how long she’s growing. I’d measured her at home at 27 inches a week or so ago (as best I could given the squirming) and wanted to get the more exact measure, which I was convinced would be longer than that. Can you tell I’m a first time Mom here? Yeah… Apparently in my exuberance, I’m measured a bit of myself in there too and got her almost 2 inches longer than she actually is (25 ¼ inches). I know 2 inches isn’t really a lot – it’s a good percentage of her though! I mean, I’d been AMAZED by her growth to 27 inches (as well one would be, I’ve now discovered, since her actually length is in the 90th percentile). I’d measured her at 24 inches a little over a month ago (God knows how big she really was then…) and couldn’t believe she could grow 3 inches in a month (and again, this might be because she possibly can’t…). I kept pointing out that that would be like me growing 7 or 8 inches or my husband growing 9 inches in a month - to which my Mom noted – but she’s a baby. She’s actually supposed to grow. You are done now. Well, yes I know that, but that’s not the point!

Anyway, I was also convinced that she must weight a good 15 lbs by now (if my aching back is any indication!) and was equally surprised to find she weighed on 13 lbs 7 oz. In fact, when I saw the weight, I commented that I would have thought more. The poor young, tentative nurse said – ‘well, we can do it again to check it.’ No, that’s OK, I’m pretty sure the digital workings inside will probably come back with a fairly consistent answer on this. When did I get so old that I want to call the nurse Opie and pat her on the head? It’s not just me. After the shots, my husband felt the need to look at her and say – ‘you did a good job.’ I’m not sure if this is because WE would certainly need some assurance if we ever made the baby cry like that…

The visit with the doctor overall went well – despite the fact that shots were looming at the end. She very patiently sat through my multitudes of questions. For reference, I’m improving – I had “only” 13 this time. Down from 17 at our last visit. She told us that the baby was growing well and thriving and that we could start her on rice cereal! (How exciting!)

And then came the dreaded shots. This is our third time with shots, so we should be used to it, but I’m not sure I can ever get used to that noise she makes. She honestly wasn’t as bad this time. Her cry really just BARELY made me feel like I should be brought before a war crimes tribunal. And she only cried for a few minutes this time. I’d be happy for the improvement, but the sounds of the young boy in the room next to us reminded me that it will get worse again. He would stop crying to give a very distinct and thought out – “Mommy, no!” or I’m not gonna!” I had almost forgotten that in a few more years, she’ll start to remember these things and know what’s coming when she goes to the doctor…

I don’t even have any really good tricks for when that happens as my parents had it a bit easier on this front. My uncle was my doctor and his office was attached to his house. So I knew that I just had to sit through my shot and then I got to go play with my cousin because my Dad would chat with my aunt for at least and hour or two. I can still remember at least one occasion where my brother had come along and was off playing with my cousin while I got my shot (already a travesty of injustice in my opinion). When they finished, I got a lollipop and my uncle told me to take one for my brother and cousin as well. What, why? I can remember bringing the lollipops off to find them and thinking – why do they get lollipops? They didn’t have to get a shot.

Ah yes… clearly the good years are ahead of me.