I had this great idea last week. Well, all right, I can’t take all the credit for it, Sadie sort of thought of it first. One night she was particularly tough to get to bed. She cried more than a 19 pound baby should even have the energy for and then once she calmed down and fell asleep, she slept so lightly even the sound of me eating dry Special K (admittedly not the quietest food ever) would start her sobbing again.You’d think the biggest roadblock Jon and are were facing that night was when we’d be able to watch Kathy Griffin: The D List in peace but no. We had to attach her feeding tube for her overnight caloric intake. We were so scared to wake her ass up that we just skipped it that night.
The next day, Sadie sucked down some four oz of Pediasure -the breakfast of champions and a bite or two of sausage. Lunch went even better – she may have had a small serving of pasta and a bite or two of prunes. But dinner was stellar: Trader Joe’s organic spaghetti-o’s and a half a piece of cheese. Oh and a whole bunch of fruits and veggies – hahahaha.
That night we decided not to tube feed her overnight again because she’d sucked down too much Pediasure right before bed (I’ve never used the phrase “sucked down” when referring to Sadie drinking so you know it was serious). The next day she ate even better. We were on to something big. I felt it. There was a direct correlation between not feeding her overnight and her having the appetite of a normal human creature that knows it needs to eat to sustain its existance.
We went for night number three. I felt it in my kishkes that this was going to work. I gave it a week for Sadie to break 20 pounds from the 19 she’d been hovering around for too fucking long. Twenty pounds was going to be happening. I could taste twenty pounds. Mothers just know these things. Sorry to be condescending but it’s true. We have a special sense. We should get paid big psychic dollars for our direct connection to a higher consciousness with God when it comes to our child. In fact, I was ready to hang out a shingle on the front lawn to make a few extra bucks on my talent. Or set up a hotline. Look, I didn’t have all the details worked out but I felt confident, okay?
Day four was possibly the best eating day Sadie had ever had. She guzzled formula like I used to guzzle pinot grigio, tried new foods, ate old favorites and sobbed when the veggie sticks ran out. I, and my great idea, was on fire. It was just a matter of time until Cedars Sinai renamed their pediatric GI wing after me. Surgeons would be dashing from room to room in the peds unit ripping out g-tubes and passing out pamphlets I’d written on the subject of feeding tube over-use and “mother-intuition based alternatives”
Night five we obviously skipped tube feeding again.
Day six I had a sobering thought: Should I call my nutritionist and give her the heads up on our little experiment? Hopefully she’d come by and weigh Sadie so we could feel great about our break-thru. I emailed her in an over explainy email and she wrote back right away saying “Why didn’t I think of that? A mom’s intuition is equally important to medical opinion” or something to that effect. She was all for it! Told you naysayers! Blow me! She agreed to come by on Saturday (which marked one week) to stick her on the bear shaped baby scale. Bear shaped scales? I know. I guess this is to trick the babies into thinking they are frolicking with fun forest animals and not just getting their weight in kilograms marked down on a growth chart.
Night six: no tube! God it was freeing! Better than crack (not that I’d know anything about crack *read my book*)!
Day seven: My little lady drank like a champ, ate a slight breakfast (she’s never been a breakfast person but who is?), a decent lunch, a nice nap and then…weight time. 18.14 oz.
Kicked in the Kishkes. Hard.
But hey, I have another idea: bolus feeds during the day to make up for….oh fuck it. We’re back to the overnight tube. At least until we can turn her damn car seat around to look forward.