Ritual Confessions

March 16, 2008

Send in the specialists

Filed under: Uncategorized — elissakaren @ 6:11 am

I didn’t want to believe I’d have to bring Charlotte back to the feeding clinic we attended last summer. After all, back then she had an aversion to even letting solid food touch her lips and, as I’ve mentioned in recent posts, that certainly isn’t the case anymore. But I’m still at wit’s end. Today she ate nothing at all. She drank half a bottle of Pediasure this morning and that was it. She nursed throughout the day but wouldn’t consume anything solid. The few bits of food she put into her mouth — a few Cheerios, a few bites of bread, a little of this sugary confection Nick’s mother sent from Russia — she actually spit back out after chewing. I just can’t imagine what this is all about. But it’s reached the point where I have to admit to myself that we’re at an unequivocal impasse. When I caress her body, her rib cage and spine feel too prominent to me. Her little limbs seem so thin. This just can’t go on any longer.

I think I was lulled into complacency early last week, in a conversation with one of Charlotte’s Montessori teachers. I’d asked her to be very persistent with attempting to feed Charlotte during the day. I could tell she was uncomfortable with this request. After some back and forth, she admitted that if Charlotte refused her food two or three times, she “would have a hard time not respecting that.” (At Montessori, respecting the child is paramount, which I generally think is fantastic. However, if I “respected” Charlotte to the extent of giving up after she refused something two or three times, she would never have made it to Montessori in the first place, as she went through a long phase of strenuously resisting her car seat. For that matter, she went through a couple of weeks of not wanting me to leave when I dropped her off in the morning.) But anyway, the teacher followed this statement by saying that yes, Charlotte is little, but she seems perfectly healthy. She ticked off all the characteristics I keep repeating to reassure myself: she’s active, she’s happy, her color is good, she’s developmentally on target… she might be underweight, but she doesn’t seem at all malnourished. I left the school feeling temporarily comforted. But now I’m in a stone cold sweat.

I just left the clinic a message. I hope they can help us.



  1. I share your hope.

    If only she were just a little older, and could communicate what it is that doesn’t appeal to her about food. It’s the inability to understand it from her point of view that’s so frustrating, I would think … she holds the key piece of information, and can’t tell you what it is.

    Comment by David — March 16, 2008 @ 4:22 pm

  2. I think you’re right to turn to the clinic again. Even if it ends up that they say it is normal for Charlotte, at least you will have put your mind to rest. The not knowing would drive me bonkers. As long as you are not sure, you need to pursue any and all avenues to get to the bottom of what is going on with little Charlotte, or what is not going on with her.

    Here’s hoping they can help you all.

    Comment by Corina — March 16, 2008 @ 6:47 pm

  3. ((Elissa)), you and little Charlotte are in my thoughts and prayers. I hope they can help or at least provide you some peace of mind.

    Comment by Shawn W — March 17, 2008 @ 2:56 am

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