Oliver's 2-month-old "Well Child" doctor's appointment was on Monday, July 2nd. Oliver is always such a treat at the doctor, and charms all of the medical staff: the receptionists, the nurses, and even the doctor himself!
He grinned and tried to roll out of the scale while he was being weighed, kicked his legs so that it took about 5 minutes to get an accurate height measurement, and then started head-banging mommy when they tried to measure his head; difficult patient, but the nurses were enamored.
Oliver weighed in at 14 lbs 1 oz (93rd percentile), and was 25" long (97th percentile). Overall, he is just my big big boy! He is growing perfectly along the ideal growth line for weight, but exceeding it a bit in height. He literally is growing like a little weed! Now I know why he outgrew his 0 - 3 month clothing weeks ago, and is working on outgrowing his 3 - 6 month clothing. I'm glad he's so healthy and growing so well, but sometimes I just wish he'd stay little! :(
Oliver and I played in the patient room until the doctor came in. Oliver loves standing on my lap and having me lean him forward repeatedly and kiss his cheeks. I think it's his version of a little game. When the doctor came in, he looked at Oliver standing on my lap (with the help of my hands for balance) and looked at his chart, and then back at Oliver. "This is his 2 month appointment, right?", he finally said. I nodded, and he laughed. He couldn't believe that Oliver was so strong! He put him down on the examining table on his belly to see what else he'd do. Oliver was in a showing off mood! He pushed himself right up onto his elbows and started to scoot himself around in a circle (he hasn't gotten the hang of the leg thing). The doctor rolled him over to examine him, and as he stepped away for a moment, Oliver attempted to roll off the table. The doctor said that Oliver was developmentally beyond most 4 month olds he sees, and nearly as developed as most 6 month olds. He also said that Oliver was exceptionally alert and that he could tell that we held him and talked to him a LOT because of the way that he responds to touch and voices. The whole time Oliver just grinned and grinned at the doctor (and licked his hand whenever he had it in the viscinity).
Needless to say, I'm a bursting proud mommy! It was actually very validating, as I was worried that I didn't hold Oliver enough and that I wasn't a good parent blah blah blah. I'm sure we all think that about ourselves, but it's nice to have a little reassurance.
The only bad part of the appointment was the dreaded immunizations. As soon as Oliver and I walked into that immunization room, I had the biggest urge to turn around and run back out. I now understand what is meant when people say that they would take any pain away from their child if they could. I started freaking out in my mind, racing through ways that I could somehow take the shots instead of him. (And I'm TERRIFIED of needles!) I knew it was irrational, but I couldn't help thinking it anyway. The first vaccine was an oral vaccine, for rotovirus. Oliver grinned at the nurse as she administered it, and lapped it all right up. Then the nurse got out the dreaded needles. ACK! Even the sight of them was enough to make me panic again. She jabbed the first one into his little chubbster thigh, he took one look down at his leg, and then whipped his head around to look at me, grab a handful of my hair, and WAIL. He looked SO sad and accusatory "Why are you letting them do this to me?" he seemed to be wailing. Of course, I started crying, and both of us cried through the end of the three shots. The nurse said that he had the cutest cry she'd ever heard (yeah, come listen to him at 3am and then see how cute it is, lady!), but that was little consolation. My baby was wounded. :( He bawled all the way home, and into the house. I tried rocking him, feeding him...nothing helped. I finally resorted to stripping him down to his diaper, taking my shirt off, and holding him with his head on my chest while I rocked him. Thankfully he settled right down and went to sleep.
Needless to say, I'm going to see if I can make daddy go to the next shots appointment with him. I don't know if I can handle it again. :( Poor little guy!
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Yes yes yes, that's all good and well, but did you find out why he cries after he's fed? Is he okay? Do you know what causes it, or has it stopped? I just want to know that all of that is either alright, or just gone altogether... Also, I just got my pic of him in the mail from my parent's place! Thanks so much! It's so cute! Kiss both of the boys for me. LYLAS
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