attempting to put that which plagues me into words

I have this problem where I obsess over certain things that people say to me. Things that at the time I often shrug off or barely notice but that later come back to haunt me.

Like the lady who attempted to draw Sawyer's blood yesterday. Of that entire traumatic experience and the two actually very inappropriate things that she said, the one that keeps resounding in my head is, "Did he lose his shoes?"

After the blood draw wasn't successful, I was attempting to make a speedy exit fighting through my tears, and she was trying to help me leave. She handed my diaper bag to me. She opened the door, and then innocently inquired, "Did he lose his shoes?"

To me it insinuated that my 7 month old, non-walking baby who stayed in my arms the entire time he was at the doctor's office should have been wearing shoes in the dead heat of summer. To me it insinuated that I was somehow lesser of a mother because I brought my baby out of the house with nothing to cover his precious little toes.

Logically I know I'm overreacting. Logically I know that she was making no such insinuation, but rather, was trying to be helpful as I made my harried exit.

What I should be offended by, rather, was how she kept muttering under her breath, but oh so loud enough for me to hear: "Why does such a little baby need such a big blood draw??"

or, how after she was unsuccessful in drawing any blood and as my baby screamed bloody murder she grabbed the order for the blood draw and exclaimed, "What is wrong with him anyway?!?"

Those are the words that I should be simmering over as I lay awake in my bed at 3 am, but no. It's the shoes comment. I can't get over the comment about the shoes.

And though it's hard for me to put my feelings into words right now, the weight check didn't go well. He gained a little over half a pound but grew zero inches in 3 weeks. He's still in the low single digit percentile for weight and continues to drop in height. The doctor thinks he's not getting enough calories but wanted to run all these tests anyway. I didn't go through with the blood draw, though. I don't know if I will. I gave it a shot, and it was a disturbing experience to say the least. I can't sleep because I am tormented by the thought that I cannot/am not providing my baby with enough nutrition for him to gain and grow properly. My instincts tell me my baby is happy and glowing and beautiful and perfect, but what if my instincts are wrong? What if he is, in some way, starving.  Breast is best, but I have no way of knowing if he's getting enough to eat. Everything says if he's gaining well he's getting enough to eat, but my doctor says he's not gaining well. She wants me to load him up on the solids which I will attempt to do, but I still can't get the idea out of my head that somehow the milk that my body is producing is in some way not enough... that if it were he would not be in this situation.

My father-in-law is on the case... a retired medical officer in the Navy he has contacts near and far and is contacting every pediatrician he knows. Mike's grandfather was a renowned pediatrician, and Mike's dad lamented that he wishes he were around today to help us crack this case. That made me feel sad too. What I'm looking for right now is a second opinion from a doctor I feel that I can trust, because I haven't run into too many of them lately...

One thing I know for sure is that Sawyer is loved so deeply and by so many. If love alone could sustain him, he would be in the 100th percentile. That's for sure.