So, Mr Paediatrician…..we meet at last

We had made an appointment to see a paediatrician and yesterday was the day. Only 5 weeks late.

Since then, he’s feeding and sleeping better, we’ve been to the hospital and changed his routine….so you can imagine how useful this visit was going to be. Sounds daft doesn’t it – you have a problem with your child right now, but your appointment is five weeks after the event.

We purposely made the appointment at 8.30am so I could get into work at a reasonable time….and of course the doctor himself didn’t turn up until 9.15am.

Now I’m a great believer of the NHS and what it stands for. I have a lot of respect for the nurses and their hard work….but sometimes hospitals are just so inefficient. To demonstrate:

The nurse took him in to be weighed…but the scales weren’t working.

“I don’t understand”, says the nurse, “it was working yesterday”.

The letters “BATT” kept flashing up on the machine, so….er, perhaps the batteries had run out?

Someone went to get another machine, by which time another nurse found a power lead. Unfortunately, there was only one power socket in the room, so they had to move things round to connect it. What a farce!

They measured his length as well…but the nurse had no idea how to use the machine. She had to wait for someone to show her – don’t they train these people? The machine isn’t exactly that complicated either – you just out the baby flat and move a bar to the baby’s foot. Even a fool would know….

We finally get in to see the doctor, and he’s not a bad bloke. Although, he kept going on about this allergy and that allergy, which could be the problem. Funnily enough, he was a bit of a specialist in baby allergies…so of course there must be an allergy issue, mustn’t there?

So….all in all, a visit which should have lasted 20 minutes somehow took almost 2 hours. Can’t wait for the next appointment…..

Mad dash to the hospital

I’ve explained before how Baby A just won’t feed comfortably, crying and screaming, pushing the bottle away, etc. It’s been a real struggle and we’ve got quite down about it. Things reached a head this weekend when he threw up a couple of times and slept through the night with an empty stomach.

We’d had enough, so thought we should take him to the hospital, get advice from a paediatrician. Since Baby A had been sick in the morning, we were up quite early at 7.30am (on a Sunday no less!)….but for some reason it wasn’t until 2 hours later that we finally left the house. Not quite a mad dash, admittedly – more a leisurely stroll.

One good thing about going in the morning is that there was no queue at the hospital – we got seen by a nurse pretty much straight away. We expected Baby A to act up…but he was as good as gold, despite a completely empty stomach. He was very curious and wide eyed and giggled with the nurse. I reckon he was flirting.

He had to give a urine sample, which was an….interesting experience. How do you tell a 3 month old that he has to pee in a pot? The little containers they give aren’t the best designed either – they are a bit wide – more scope for spillage. Can’t i just have used a bottle?

So there we were, Mummy A holding him her lap (fearing a fountain in her face at any moment) and me holding a plastic container, ready to catch the mess. The same thought always ends up going through my mind as well, whenever we take his nappy off – what if he decides now is the time to do a poo?

Luckily, it went surprisingly well with minimal mess and we got his nappy back on quick smart. The doctor came shortly afterwards and we expected him to be grumpy. Instead, he smiled and laughed with her. C’mon Baby A, you’re meant to follow the script!

We went through our complaints about his feeding problems and the was he cries all the time and thought we would demonstrate with a bottle. So, we waved the bottle in his face…..and he latched on and started drinking like crazy. He drank 2 ounces in the space of 5 minutes.

Typical isn’t it? You want to explain to the doctor what a problem he is – and he destroys your credibility by acting like the perfect baby.

The doctor was very nice though and prescribed an antacid, in case that helped. We really wanted to make the doctor understand how he can act up, so she got a bottle of pre-prepared milk to try. So again, we waved the bottle in his face….and he drank the whole thing in 15 minutes. Aaaaargh! The only time we want him to cry – and he refuses.

Going to the hospital was worth it though (even if the doctor was probably quite sceptical due to Baby A’s “model” behaviour). The doctor did give us a few things to think about – and hey, he drank 6 ounces in one go. Maybe we should take a trip to the hospital whenever we need to feed him.

It’s getting hot in here!

The unusual April weather has reminded me of something I never mentioned before.

I can’t quite remember what the weather was like in February (my memory is like Swiss cheese!), but don’t remember it being incredibly cold. However, when we first returned from the hospital, we knew very little about how to take care of him.

Not surprisingly, we looked to the hospital for advice, and noticed that the temperature in the ward was probably more suitable for a furnace. Obviously this meant we had to keep Baby A warm at all times. As in, really warm.

So, in the first couple of weeks we made sure he was well insulated with his vest, sleepsuit, mittens, hat, two blankets and a duvet. And we turned up the thermostat to 24 degrees, to make sure he was nice and toasty….if you like your toast slightly burnt that is.

Then we were surprised when he kept turning as bright as tomato. He probably would have been cooler inside the microwave.

It took us a week or so to realise we were probably roasting him alive, but if there was one thing I would complain about hospitals, it’s the lack of initial advice they give you.

After all, this is my first baby. Help!