Blessed

A month ago at Sawyer's 9 month check up with his new pediatrician here in South Carolina, the doctor plugged Sawyer's stats into his computer as though Sawyer was a 15-month-old.
Before this mistake was discovered, we all had quite a panic when we found that not only were Sawyer's weight and height still hanging out below the 5th percentile on the chart, his head circumference, which had been holding steady at the 25th percentile from birth, had dropped to zero percentile.

This particular pediatrician was not prepared for us to walk into his office that day. He was not prepared for the failure to thrive diagnosis, the in-patient stay in the hospital, or Sawyer's supposed stats.

He needed some time to discuss what was going on with his colleagues.  He sent us out to lunch for an hour.

During this hour I believed that there was something seriously wrong with my baby. At that point, I knew for sure that he was eating and eating well. I believed that his hospital stay was all for naught - the reflux diagnosis a sham, and I saw before me what was certain to be a long, difficult road.

I was scared, but ready.

The sobs of anguish I let out on my way home from the doctor in Poway after Sawyer had his attempt at a blood-draw. The utter terror I felt making the decision to take him in-patient and walking him into the pediatrics ward in San Diego. These feelings were gone. In their place was strength. calm. fear, yes. sadness, yes.

But I was ready to take on whatever that day held. Sawyer is a brave little soldier, this I knew for certain. Together we had been through much, and it was terrible and not as bad as I thought it would be both at the same time.

And just as I set my shoulders firmly in the direction of strength and survival, Mike plugged Sawyer's numbers into a website on his iphone and found some very different percentiles than what the doctor had told us only 40 minutes before.

When we got back, Mike and the doctor looked at the doctor's chart together, and Mike noticed that it was a chart for a 15-month-old.

I almost collapsed with joy.

My uncle later commented that he was shocked that this particular doctor didn't get a solid punch to the face for his mistake. Instead, we were both just filled to the brim with relief and happiness. For a solid hour we truly believed that what Sawyer had was one of those really bad things the doctors had ruled out at the hospital. Thankfully that wasn't the case. We were ready to face it if it was, but it wasn't. Thank God.