PERSONAL. Fauna, four months. Manfred, four years.


Last Thursday, 9th of September, little Fauna approached the end of her fourth month of life. It was also the day when, four years ago, I met Manfred and we became lovers ipso facto. Now I don't know if I should talk about the endless love I feel for Fauna or the endless love I feel for Manfred. 
The truth is that we are a cheesy group of sugary lovers, the three of us. We spend the weekend being intensely with each other. It was the best plan in our agenda. Manfred and I were so absorbed by our familiar intimacy that we didn't realize our anniversary. It doesn't matter because we celebrated life and love. The mornings were slow, the three of us over the bed: Fauna sleeping her morning nap between my arms while Manfred and I read books, one next to the another one. The afternoons were also slow: long walks trough the hot city. Ice cream and games over the grass at the park. My spirit full of joy. What a lifestyle I have!

So I wanted to comment a bit about the development of Fauna, because I mean to make some kind of diary. 
Last Wednesday I went to the doctor with Fauna, to the routine checking. She is 60 cm long which correspond to the lowest percentile but it's right. She didn't achieve the 5 kilos yet, she is 200 grams under the weight. She is slow in her physical growth and, well, here is he topic! 
The doctor told me to give her a bottle of formula every day and to come back on the following week. This situation opened a dilema in my thinking. Firstly it made me worry, of course. I was already observing that Fauna is tiny and slim, which make her look extremely cute (there is such a huge babies around.... you cannot imagine). In the other hand, I never felt she was missing something (I still don't). I can see her so awake, looking with attention to everything, especially lights and faces. Smiling, playing, laughing... and when she is annoyed, crying with such powerful energy. She is learning to control her hands, to pick objects and then introduce them to her mouth. I feel she is extremely capable in the little things she tries out. And it looks all really funny because she is tiny but full of face expressions. Secondly there was also this hurt of my proudness, thinking: how it cannot be enough what it comes out of my breast if we are designed for each other, mother and daughter. 
Plus, I cannot avoid this ideas about doctors. They are not following so close the development of individual babies and they tend to generalize the way things should be, following preventive protocols. Because I know that the growth of any living form is not as linear as graphics show.
I had also feared that Fauna would like more the easiness of the bottle and eventually not be satisfied by my breast. I consulted with my midwife and finally decided to give her the bottle, but just 60ml a day (the bottle itself can hold 150ml). Also, I let her sleep attached to my nipple in the morning naps (I used to go away from the bed when she was deeply sleep). The fattiest milk is the last one that a baby drinks and, while sleeping, babies keep sucking time to time. It's my way to try to make her get heavier, and also is quite a pleasure to wait until she wakes up by herself. Because then she look up at me (with the nipple still in her mouth) and smile with joyful and calm eyes.
What finally happened is that Fauna didn't drink more than 40ml any of these days. Also, when the bottle was given to her in the evening, she drunk until she was full and then didn't want more liquid but searched my nipples for comfort, to finally fall sleep.
Let's see what happen on the next tomorrow at the doctor...

All and all, everything is fine and Fauna is getting funnier by moments. She has personality, character. The love I feel for her grows every time I look. Sometimes I feel I am going to explode of love. I remember now these first days next to her. I wasn't so attached or enthusiastic. I wanted her to grow older. 
Now it's completely different, I want her to be like she is now forever...

PD: Manfred is the best father. Manfred is the best choice I ever made. Or, was he who choose me? Not sure...










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