In the early days of my daughter’s life, I found myself fixated on the scale. Each visit to the pediatrician felt like a test of my worth as a mother. I would anxiously watch the nurse weigh my squirming baby, holding my breath and praying for even the slightest weight gain. More often than not, the numbers remained unchanged. The combination of my daughter’s cries and my own quiet sobs echoed in the room as I left the scale, feeling defeated and anxious.
After every appointment, we devised a new feeding strategy: nurse every hour, pump after feeding, and supplement with formula. I adhered to this increasingly complicated routine, sacrificing my peace of mind in the process. Each trip home was filled with preparation for the next weigh-in, hoping desperately for any sign of weight gain — even a mere ounce.
I never expected to have a baby who struggled to gain weight. During my pregnancy, I skipped over newborn clothes, assuming my child would follow in my footsteps as a healthy, hefty baby. In my own life, I’d grappled with my weight, finally reaching a place of acceptance where I focused on my strength and endurance rather than the number on the scale. Yet, here was my 7-pound daughter, stirring up old insecurities and self-doubt.
Each time I placed her on the scale, it brought back memories of my past frustrations with weight loss. I had tried every diet and fitness routine, each time hoping for different results. I was caught in an endless cycle of striving for numbers that did not reflect my worth. My personal journey had involved intense workout regimes at the cost of quality family time, while for my daughter, it meant endless hours of nursing and pumping instead of enjoying the quiet moments of infancy.
Even as I meticulously skimmed the fat from my milk to fortify her diet, I was met with disappointment after disappointment. “Is she hitting her developmental milestones?” asked my pediatric nutritionist, as I nervously nodded in response. My daughter, with her bright eyes and coos, was meeting all her milestones despite her weight, which prompted the question: why was I so fixated on the scale?
A wise friend reminded me, “Someone has to be in the lower percentiles.” This simple truth shifted my perspective. Bodies, no matter the age, come in a range of shapes and sizes, and there’s little we can do to alter what nature has designed. My daughter, despite her size, was thriving and happy. And so was I, in my own way.
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In summary, my daughter’s struggles with weight taught me an invaluable lesson about self-acceptance and the importance of focusing on overall well-being rather than numbers on a scale.