If all goes well, by this time tomorrow I'll have attended my first Baby & Me fitness class. The listing states that it's for babies 2-12 months, so we've been waiting for Blake to grow up a bit. Now that he's 8 weeks old, they'll let us in slightly ahead of schedule (the girl on the phone said, "uh, isn't 8 weeks 2 months?"). I can't wait; I'm not really worried about my shape, but I want to get active again. Most of my days are balanced between exhaustion and alertness, but exercise will help me sleep when the opportunity presents itself rather than just at the worst possible time. Gotta take it when I can get it, don't you know.

(As one of the women in my postpartum group said last Thursday, "sleeping when the baby sleeps" would be ideal, if the baby didn't fall asleep in the middle of road trips and during visits to grandma.)

Today we had our first visit to a doctor. The horror. The horror. Other women with slightly older babies had warned me that the first visit after midwifery care sucked, but I'd failed to realize how much it would suck. Of course, I had an extra helping of suck-sauce ladled on my visit due to the presence of my mother (Little Miss The Medical Establishment Is Always Right). My family doctor isn't a bad person or a bad doctor, but 10 months of midwifery care have taught me the difference between recommendations & requirements. Nothing she said today was a requirement, although my mother treated it like received wisdom from Mount Sinai.

That wouldn't be such a problem, except that she suggested "delaying" Blake (who feeds about every 2 hours) with a bottle of water because "feeding him every 2 hours will wear me out." First of all, there's nothing in the current research that supports giving water to healthy thriving babies before 6 months. (I called the local La Leche League leader tonight to confirm this.) Secondly, why would I want to fill my baby up with calorie-free water when he was so slow to gain weight in the first place? Thirdly, what do I care if I'm sitting still (or lying down) & cuddling my baby every 2 hours or so? Finally, I'm not particularly tired. I have lots of help around the clock; I seldom miss meals and I get a reasonable amount of sleep for the mother of an infant. I'm very careful not to overextend myself physically, and I'm very diligent about asking for help when I need a few minutes or a few hours to myself. I'm not at all worn out.

At least, I'm not worn out by breastfeeding. Deflecting advice is another matter.

I suppose I wouldn't be upset about it if I could hear the advice, consider it, and reject it without having my decision questioned. This is the worst part about living with my parents: they tend to assume that I can't be trusted to make my own decisions if those decisions are in opposition to their own desires. Heh. Besides, if they think that a supplement will free up more of my time for household chores & personal hygiene, they're sadly mistaken. Any extra time I get will be spent on worthless pursuits such as web design. You hear me, doctor?! Worthless pursuits!!

I was also bummed out by the lack of subtle emotional support in the doctor's office. As I followed the nurse's instructions & stripped my son for his exam, I couldn't help but remember how tenderly Hectate undressed him – speaking lovingly the whole while - every time we had an appointment, and how she would hold him while we talked. I could see it wasn't a chore, it was a bonus. I thought of how many midwives & students knew me by name. I thought of the clean waiting room, where I could hang out & nurse without worrying about unfriendly stares or ugly germs. And then Blake was undressed and I had no more time to be maudlin.

He's up to 11 pounds even, by the way. He has proto-jowls, kind of, but it's more like the fullness of my own face than a visual quote from Diefenbaker. I like to think that all of this quick weight gain is feeding his remarkable intellect – I've never seen such a busy, curious baby in my life. He's bounding ahead every day. I can practically see the neurons crackling into being.

"He'd know the whole alphabet by now, if it were all 'aohhhh.'" – my dad.

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- Rocketbride's adventure of 2/02/2004 11:05:00 p.m.