"Failure to Thrive"

Today was one of the most discouraging, frustrating and heart-breaking days I have had in a long time. Life has certainly had it's ups and downs the past few months and until this past week, I had finally felt things start to become somewhat balanced.

As most of you know, our last appointment with our pediatrician was quite discouraging. Not more than 30 minutes after we left the appointment, they called us back in to re-take some of Benjamin's measurements. They were concerned that he was below the 5th percentile for his weight. A few weeks before, we had made the decision to stop giving him cows milk and all other dairy because it was causing severe constipation (so severe that he would scream and cry trying to get a bowel movement out and when he finally did get it out it would be bloody and so would his bottom). We were told in order to get his weight back "on the charts" we had to start giving him milk, regardless of the constipation issue.

After that appointment I did a lot of research and was really discouraged at what I found regarding cow's milk and the effect it has on human babies. We tried for a few days mixing cows milk with his Almond milk, but again, we were getting the same constipation issues. Between the research I had done, and wittnessing the effects that dairy had on our son, Rob and I decided to take him off of dairy and try other approaches of getting him the fat that he needed.

Rob and I have worked very hard to ensure that Benjamin eats well and is not given "crap" food. We decided at the beginning of the year to give up all fast food and we have done that. Rob and I have gone 5 months without eating fast food and Benjamin has never had it. I shop the organic section of the grocery for Ben, I read labels and I spend a lot of time researching food companies and what they put into their foods before I give it to my child. He eats a TON of veggies and fruit and if given the choice of various foods on his plate, he always goes for the veggies. In general he is just a very healthy child when it comes to eating.

Today was our two-week check-up with our pediatrician. She said she had wanted to see him gain at least 2 lbs. Well, that didn't exactly happen. He actually lost about 6oz. My heart dropped when I saw that, not only because of how hard we had worked to get him the right fats, but because I knew the lecture that would follow. And it did. I was told that giving him milk was "not an option" and that "if I want my child to gain weight and be healthy, the only option is to start giving him milk". Again, I explained the issue I have with giving him milk and told our doctor that I can not justify giving him dairy when it clearly has a horrible effect on his body. Certainly there has to be some other way of getting him the fat he needs?? The response I got simply nauseated me. I think the only thing that kept me from bursting into tears was the intense anger I felt.

"Well, then I'm going to have to simply put on his chart, "Failure to thrive" and refer you to a specialist at Children's Hospital," she said.

Failure to thrive?!? Are you kidding me?? I am a nurse, I know what "failure to thrive" means and I know what type of patients that label is given to. I was blindsided by her comment and infuriated that she would label my son like that. I felt personally attacked and I felt like I was not doing my job as a mother to keep him well and healthy.

I got in my car and just started driving. I could barely see through all of my tears. I felt like I couldn't breathe. I felt angry, frustrated, guilty, and simply sick to my stomach. What were we doing wrong?! I immediately started beating myself up for not just giving him milk, but then I thought, she isn't there with us to see how painful it is for him, she doesn't hear his cries or have to rub his rock hard belly to try to get his bowels to move. Who is she to tell us that "it's not an option". We know what is best for our son.

Still, the sting of the word "failure" resonated in my mind all the way to Columbus. It felt like a personal attack. As I was driving I couldn't help but question every decision I have made regarding his health. Maybe it was the word failure that was brining up so many insecurities in me. Maybe it's a deep down fear I have of something happening to him or his health being compromised in any way. Regardless, I know what happened today brought up something in me that has more to do with than my sons health. I know I am doing what is right for my baby. I know that he is happy and healthy and I know that he has two very small parents, and that he will probably never be "normal" on the charts. But still... that word. I hate that she gave him that label and I hate the way it made me feel as a parent and as a person.