Size Zero baby

When you think of happy, healthy babies your mind usually conjures up rolly-polly Michelin Man bubs with roll after roll of delicious chubbiness.

Frankie is no Michelin Man. Infact, she's more Kate Moss, in a size zero kind of way...

When the inevitable daily conversation with a well-meaning person at the supermarket turns to the question "how old is she?", I get the same blood-curdling response each time: "Wow - she's very small isn't she".

YES! SHE IS! I grit my teeth and reply, "it's in her genes". It is to be expected, given that her father would never have made the NBA's first draft pick, or to the dizzying heights of a Sumo Wrestling championship.

We had Frankie's six month checks this week with the paediatrician and the community centre nurse who have have assured me that she is well and healthy. In fact, the community nurse was at one point close to slapping me to ensure I understood that all was well with my darling girl.

The truth is, deep down I know that Frankie is fighting fit. She's expending an awful lot of energy crawling around the place, shoving real food in her mouth, climbing over me whenever I pick her up, and wriggling around on her changemat. She is more lean than lump. But I can't help but let those comments from other people chip away at my confidence. It feels as though other babies her age are all bigger. Where have the smaller babies gone? Do they just breed them bigger on the lower North Shore?

I have let my phobias about Frankie's weight dictate many of my decisions regarding feeding her.At 4 months I started to get paranoid that my milk was drying up or vitamin deficient to some degree. For this reason, I introduced her to solids quite early. She certainly lapped up the food, which in my mind confirmed that she must have been starving! And whilst she did gain a bit of weight when solids were intially introduced, it wasn't much longer before it plateaud again and my fears about my milk supply resurfaced. Low and behold, she started taking the bottle at six months of age so I immediately gave her some formula. She slept through the night - once again, "proving" that I hadn't been able to adequately feed her myself.

And yet, what the doctor and nurses have shown me is that whilst her weight might level out for a while, on the whole her growth has been steady. She is consistently getting chubbier and there is no need for me to be so damn worried about my milk. Ironically, if there's any reason why my milk would be inefficient it would be as a result of my anxiety over the whole issue! So the key seems to be to Stress Less Jess, and go on happily doing as I have been doing without forcing food unnecessarily upon her. The fact that she can now feed herself (oh, the wonderful joy of a self-feeding baby!) means that I can let her explore and enjoy food on her own and I won't have to worry too much about the exact amount of mL's that she's getting out of my weary jubblies.

So the next time someone remarks on my "tiny" baby, I'll just tell them that we have her in training for the next Featherweight championship of the world!