No, this isn't a narcissistic post about how I'm going to try and shake off my baby weight (although I really need to get on with it as our first family holiday is just a couple months away). This post is about the shocking pleasure, satisfaction and sheer joy that comes when ones baby starts packing on those pounds (well grams) in the early days.
When Harry was born, he was pretty ickle. Weighing in at 2380 grams (that's 6.2lbs) he felt ever so fragile & and small. Like when I was pregnant, people felt it necessary to comment on his size, questioning his health which of course was a little upsetting given that he was perfectly healthy and extremely happy.
Thanks to the lovely people at Salter, I'm the happy owner of my very own baby scales (the MiBABY scales to be specific), an ideal asset for any mother as I'm quite sure we are all as obsessive as each other (well I hope so anyway) when it comes to our babies weight & growth!
Whilst it is, I am sure advisable to weigh one's baby on a week by week basis to accurately (and normally) track growth... I of course weigh Harry everyday. In fact, I actually look forward to our nightly weigh in (yes, I know how this sounds)
In the early days, Harry's weight took sometime to "turn" and start increasing as oppose to staying the same or, decreasing (I am fully aware that this is normal but being a new mother I couldn't help but feel sickened by the thought of it!)
I remember feeling particularly cross after one of the early midwife visits when the unexpecting midwife arrived with a different brand of scales to the midwife who'd visited previously. Anyone who deems themselves particularly knowledgeable on the topic of weighing people (me of course) knows full well that as well as time of day, wees & poos effecting one's weight... the brand of scales make a big difference too.
I remember suffering a non-baby related sleepless night before the "signing off" health visit... i.e. before I was officially signed off by the health visitor as she was happy with "baby's" weight (just on this, I don't know about you but I found it increasingly annoying how any medical professional referred to my unborn, or refers to my born child as "baby". We knew the sex and he now has a name, why they can't use it, or couldn't refer to him, as "him" I'll never know.
Anyway, it turned out that my monitoring and obsessing paid off as on the dreaded "signing off day" Harry was (despite poo'ing just before she arrived which almost reduced me to tears) signed off. WOOHOO!!
Since that day, I don't know about you, but I feel ridiculously proud every night pre bath time, and every time I take Harry to the clinic for a weigh-in (I like to double up... yes again, I do know how this sounds!)
Today he weighs 10.5lbs and honestly, I couldn't be prouder of us. By us, I am of course referring to "Team Harry". "Team Harry" is of course made up of three people. The two "feeders" (aka Mummy & Daddy and the very important "eater", our little angel Harry.
From what my own mother tells me, obsessing over children's food never quite goes away. I noticed the other day a shred of concern in my Mums voice when she asked what I had for dinner that night and I responded with... "a bowl of Crunchie Nut for the third night in a row"
I guess, worrying comes with the unique, wonderful and very special title of Mum, for now I will happily continue to obsess and track my little boys growth....
I can't wait for tomorrow's weigh in ;-)