I did it. I fired our pediatrician.
I feel much better. Brian and I aren't sure what we will do next - if a complaint to the medical board is warranted, or even a possible law suit - but I am glad the office will no longer be a part of our - or Scotty's - life. The original ped (not the one who so grievous erred) has been treating us like "Oh, everything's fine! Let's put this little snafu behind us, shall we?" and it really bugged me. I wanted to tell her (and I did, at our last appointment - oh, me and my mouth) - that 1.) what happened was a REALLY BIG FREAKING DEAL and 2.) we have lost trust in her and her collegues. And do NOT minimize our situation in order to make yourself feel better. She also couldn't guarantee me that the other doctor would never see Scotty again. In her words, "I need to have a life, too." I understand that (and as a former practitioner who had to deal with emergency calls from patients, I'm well aware of how this works), but as I told her, "You are only as strong as your weakest member."
And so, the interviewing began. We found a lovely woman with a solo practice who assured me she never takes vacations. We are meeting with her today for Scotty's one month check-up. I feel the need to cram in as much tummy time between now and 2:30 as possible, almost like in college when you sat there and read the whole text book in anticipation of the quiz in class. Nothing like procrastination. I'm so glad I'm passing on my bad habits to my son.
And in other news...
I am pumping almost 7-8oz at night! This is very exciting. My production is down during the day (about 4-5oz per pump) but really skyrockets at nighttime. Scotty, however, is an eating machine (his nicknames vary from Chumley, Pork Chop, Piglet to Chow Puppy) and has taken to eating four ounces every two hours. Where is he putting this food? I'm planning to work up his chart for the new ped today to make sure he is developing appropriately. Does this child have a wooden leg? Seriously.
I am only 8 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight. This is insane. I've fought a long, hard battle against my body (and weight) the majority of my life, and I'm hoping this is perhaps my body's way of saying, "Sorry, Kim...we'll be nicer to you in the future." A silver lining to the past month? Either way, I'll take it. And, just in case you are curious, it's not like I was skinny pre-pregnancy. I was fattening myself up in anticipatino of pregnancy ("Onion rings? Sure! That's sounds great!") so I really have about 20 more pounds to lose to fit into my favorite pair of jeans. Body, did you hear me? Start metabolozing.
And finally, in non-baby news, our neighbors (yes, those neighbors) are right back up to their old tricks. Not only have they piled about 60 cardboard boxes on the side of their house (right in front of our window), but they have set up "Tent City" in their backyard. There are two huge tents amid the cat litter, potting soil bags, and flattened cardboard boxes. There is even a fire pit carved into the rocks. It's like we're living next to a homeless city. I called the Fire Marshall yesterday but they seemed wholly unconcerned. Great. Because our house burning down will just the cherry on top of an otherwise stellar month.
I feel much better. Brian and I aren't sure what we will do next - if a complaint to the medical board is warranted, or even a possible law suit - but I am glad the office will no longer be a part of our - or Scotty's - life. The original ped (not the one who so grievous erred) has been treating us like "Oh, everything's fine! Let's put this little snafu behind us, shall we?" and it really bugged me. I wanted to tell her (and I did, at our last appointment - oh, me and my mouth) - that 1.) what happened was a REALLY BIG FREAKING DEAL and 2.) we have lost trust in her and her collegues. And do NOT minimize our situation in order to make yourself feel better. She also couldn't guarantee me that the other doctor would never see Scotty again. In her words, "I need to have a life, too." I understand that (and as a former practitioner who had to deal with emergency calls from patients, I'm well aware of how this works), but as I told her, "You are only as strong as your weakest member."
And so, the interviewing began. We found a lovely woman with a solo practice who assured me she never takes vacations. We are meeting with her today for Scotty's one month check-up. I feel the need to cram in as much tummy time between now and 2:30 as possible, almost like in college when you sat there and read the whole text book in anticipation of the quiz in class. Nothing like procrastination. I'm so glad I'm passing on my bad habits to my son.
And in other news...
I am pumping almost 7-8oz at night! This is very exciting. My production is down during the day (about 4-5oz per pump) but really skyrockets at nighttime. Scotty, however, is an eating machine (his nicknames vary from Chumley, Pork Chop, Piglet to Chow Puppy) and has taken to eating four ounces every two hours. Where is he putting this food? I'm planning to work up his chart for the new ped today to make sure he is developing appropriately. Does this child have a wooden leg? Seriously.
I am only 8 pounds above my pre-pregnancy weight. This is insane. I've fought a long, hard battle against my body (and weight) the majority of my life, and I'm hoping this is perhaps my body's way of saying, "Sorry, Kim...we'll be nicer to you in the future." A silver lining to the past month? Either way, I'll take it. And, just in case you are curious, it's not like I was skinny pre-pregnancy. I was fattening myself up in anticipatino of pregnancy ("Onion rings? Sure! That's sounds great!") so I really have about 20 more pounds to lose to fit into my favorite pair of jeans. Body, did you hear me? Start metabolozing.
And finally, in non-baby news, our neighbors (yes, those neighbors) are right back up to their old tricks. Not only have they piled about 60 cardboard boxes on the side of their house (right in front of our window), but they have set up "Tent City" in their backyard. There are two huge tents amid the cat litter, potting soil bags, and flattened cardboard boxes. There is even a fire pit carved into the rocks. It's like we're living next to a homeless city. I called the Fire Marshall yesterday but they seemed wholly unconcerned. Great. Because our house burning down will just the cherry on top of an otherwise stellar month.
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