We had Mother's Day. I'm the most blessed mother ever. Nate spoiled me, and Caleb even did all that he could at his young age--he behaved well in Church and he ate well all day. I love Mother's Day.
Caleb had his 18-month check-up. He's almost 30 inches tall and weighs 17 lbs 6 oz. That's a half-ounce loss over the last month. Remember the three weeks before that, when he gained over a pound? I thought he had turned a corner. But I was wrong. He just had a lot of IV fluids from his hospital stay. Now I expect him to slowly lose that.
Caleb had his GI scope. His insides are beautiful, and we have pictures to prove it (if you can appreciate pictures of the upper digestive system, anyway). Nothing is visibly wrong, and we'll have the biopsy results on Monday to know if there are any unseen problems. I was happy that his esophagus looked good. It's been over a month since we have given him prevacid, so it's truly safe to say that he has finally outgrown his reflux! Now, the best case scenario is that there is something minor wrong with the biopsy results that is easy to fix and that will cure all of our problems once it's fixed. Worst case scenario--something serious is wrong (very unlikely). Second worst case scenario--nothing is wrong at all (rather likely). I'm so tired of hearing "keep doing what you're doing." IT'S NOT WORKING!!! I don't think any of the doctors understand how much effort it takes to feed my son. I'm so drained, physically and emotionally. I can't keep doing this. He's hardly eaten any solids since Monday. I'm so drained, I thought, "Maybe if I back off the pressure a bit, he'll feel a little more relaxed and start eating a little better on his own." It was worth a try. But I was wrong. So wrong. He'll starve to death without me pressuring him to eat. Well, maybe he'll lose enough weight that the pediatrician will finally take me seriously when I tell him that this isn't working. Maybe they'll do something about it. I can always hope, I guess.
And to make it worse, Caleb seems to be permanently traumatized by his latest hospital experiences. He clearly remembers his hospital stay during March. He immediately started clinging to me when we got to the hospital for the scope. When the nurse put his ID bracelet on his ankle, he screamed and screamed. He screamed when they had to pin him down and put a mask over his mouth and nose to put him to sleep. He woke up screaming and he didn't stop until we left the hospital. The minute we stepped out of the doors he stopped crying. He wasn't scared or hurt. He was just plain mad. I hope he never has to step foot in a hospital again. It's rough watching your helpless son get tortured again and again for his own good.