Thursday, April 16, 2009
Sheepishly I filled out the questionnaire. Yes Ella can sit briefly without help. Yes she smiles spontaneously. Yes she squeals with delight. Yes she can push up on her arms. Yes she turns to her name. Yes, yes yes. Do I still have questions about my child's health? Yes.
Why is she so yittle!?
I got Ella into the doctor a little earlier by calling and claiming she had a rash. (fingers crossed.)
Ella is officially 13 pounds, 5 oz. She is on the 10th percentile, which pleased me. She is 26.6 inches tall, the 75th percentile, which also pleased me. It apparently pleased Dr. Metcalf too. He felt the ratio was fine. A little skinny. Plotted on the growth chart, her weight has fallen off a bit. She is going back in 6 weeks for a weight check up. I'm going to power pack the little sucker a bit. No daughter of mine is going to be skinny. It goes against everything my angst ridden body issues represent.
In all seriousness, just writing down my fears about Ella helped to calm them. Seeing Dr. Metcalf and watching Ella flirt and smile and show off helped too. I feel fine. Ella is fine. She is developing fine. Thanks for your concern and for checking back. Whatever issues may arise down the road we can handle. No child is perfect, genetically or otherwise.
In other news, yesterday I dropped off Charlotte's wheelchair to her preschool classroom as a donation. It was hard. I had kept the little red wheelchair in the living room for weeks, and then moved it to the hall, but kept telling myself that it was too heavy to lift into the car on my own, or that I should really thoroughly clean it first, and take off the masking tape that says my daughters name, and find every spare nut and knob that came with it, and then I'd take it in.
In the end, I got up on Wednesday, lifted it easily into the hatchback, loaded Ella in the car and drove the three minutes to Truman Elementary. I didn't wash the seat covers. I didn't wipe the fingerprints off the arm rests. I didn't remove her name. I just took it, and wheeled it into room 41.
Her teacher said she missed her and I started to cry. I haven't cried over Charlotte in weeks.
I left the little red wheelchair and I will miss it, sitting in the corner with the white winged teddy bear sitting in it's seat.
It was just one more thing I had to let go of.