The good, the bad and the internet

The boyfriend has suggested I might want to write something positive about motherhood, just in case social services turn up and requisition our baby. So here goes.

When she’s quiet and just lying on you, sleeping, this feels like the best job in the world.

On the odd occasion that breastfeeding isn’t torture we’ve laid down as the rain lashes against the windows and I’ve sung along to King Creosote as she busily fills her cheeks.

She’s trying to smile. Mostly it happens when she farts but sometimes you can convince yourself it’s in response to a witticism you just uttered about daytime television (specifically Duck Dynasty which is the single greatest tv programme ever recorded).

She likes reggae and rap. Especially Snoop Doggy Dog and Bob Marley. And some of the works of Biggie Smalls. Anything with a phat baseline works though.

Her head smells awesome. Like ridiculously good.

On the con side I’ve gone back to being a medical student about illness. In that I’m convinced she has everything wrong with her (at med school I diagnosed myself with a brain tumour (and actually ended up in a&e when my GP tested my reflexes, found them to be hyper-reflexive, took my history, and agreed with me), colon cancer (piles and ibs combo can be deceiving) and MS (every medical student worth their salt self-diagnoses MS at one time or another). I’m convinced Little Trouble has a rare syndrome that ups her risk of cancer in childhood. This requires her to fulfill 3 of 5 factors. Hypoglycaemic? (I can’t feed her enough and she’s jittery between feeds). Check. Large salmon mark on forehead? Check. Macroglossia? Well her tongue is always protruding, and the breastfeeding lead for the county pronounced her tongue the longest she’s seen. Check. So she fills the three criteria needed to diagnose this syndrome. Yes. I am ignoring that the other two require bits of her gut to be outside her body at birth, but who cares? At 3am it’s very hard not to send off for a private genetic testing kit and pay a squillion quid to some hokey internet lab. But after I hinted at my concerns to a friend today she pointed out that kids lick everything, so the tongue is probably just out to increase stimulation, and the inability to fill her up is due to a growth spurt. So I’m mentally sitting on my hands to stop myself googling any more syndromes. Luckily I’m not alone. A doctor mummy friend admitted to googling similar rare diseases to explain her child’s open eyes. Which are open. And normal.

But her head smells amazing. For the meantime I’ll focus on that.

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2 thoughts on “The good, the bad and the internet

  1. Em, I think you are bloody brilliant. I’m loving reading your blog and I think there are many new mothers and doctors alike out there who would appreciate your honesty. Keep it up and I hope the smiles increase from you and baby xxx

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