Apr.19.03

E. has now entered the world of "solid" food. Today I fed him his first rice cereal, mixed with breastmilk. It was as close to liquid as you can get, hence the word "solid" in quotes. And the whole safari lasted about three minutes. It consisted of me trying to get the spoon of food into his mouth without him grabbing it with his hands, and then when he dribbled it down his chin and onto his bib, I tried desparately and unsuccessfully to keep him from futzing around with the bib and getting rice cereal all over himself. It was very cute and I'm thinking quite typical of most babies' first spoon feeding.

And of course we video-taped it. Heh.

I have conflicting feelings about starting the whole solid foods business--I mean, first and foremost, we have the poop issue. Soon, the once a week milk poops will be a wonderful memory. I'm going to miss 'em. They were like clockwork. And while they did stink, I'm sure that the stink of baby food poop is going to knock me out. Frankly, I'm pretty nervous.

Other reasons that solids are a bit, ah (for lack of a better word), scary to me are: The lack of portability; The mess, oh the mess; The worry of, "Will this one give him an allergic reaction? Blah, blah.

But then, it's just so exciting. Something new for him to experience! Isn't that cool! It will be so much fun.

And well, I don't want to breastfeed him for the rest of his life, so he's going to have to start somewhere.

For E., that's rice cereal this week, and possibly pears or peas the next.

Whoo-hoo! The life of a new parent.

++++++++++

I wish I could say that things are all wonderful, but...

Yesterday was my endocrinologist appointment. What I thought was just going to be a quick office visit turned out to be a pretty scary experience. The doc is a really cool lady, I like her a lot--well, except for when she got out the needles. But I'm getting ahead of myself. First, she asked me a bunch of questions and we chatted. Then she took a look at my (bleagh) goiter with an ultrasound. Then she said something about having to "stick" me. I said okay, and put on a game face, because really I didn't have a clue what was about to happen. I was about to get a needle biopsy.

She had me dress in a gown and stuck a pillow under my shoulders so that I was lying in an uncomfortable neck-craning position. Then she and this other doctor (a beautiful, short-haired woman with a British accent) stood over me and, with the kind of syringes you use for taking blood, they stuck needles in my neck. Six times they stuck me, and I can tell you for sure that I can't remember ever feeling quite that vulnerable. Of course it hurt like hell too. I cried. It was pretty traumatic. One ray of light in the whole thing was that both of the docs were very kind and as gentle as they could be. The British doctor even held my hand every time they put in a needle. When it was over, my endocrinologist said something about how we could have waited and set up an appointment and done it on another day, but I remarked that it was best that she just went and did it. This way, I didn't have time to worry.

I was tired and sore afterwards, but I feel a lot better today.

Hope I don't ever have to go through that again.

So yeah, a biopsy. I thought I was out of that particular woods, but I guess not. I should be able to find out the results on Tuesday.

I've decided that it's not worth my energy to worry. What will worrying do? Nothing.

I think I'll just enjoy my weekend and pretend that I don't have a care in the world.

square - hip