Conversations with the Doctor

Doctor (every single time we have a doctor appointment for a baby): How’s he* nursing.

Me (unless it’s the first week or two): Fine.

Dr: How’s he sleeping?

Me (lying through my teeth): Fine.

[Alternately: Me: Like a baby.**]

Dr: And how many poopy diapers?

Me (every single time!): (First there’s panic—oh no! Should I be counting these things? Weighing them? Marking some sort of tally? Then there’s a reality check. Hello? You just discovered that he gained two pounds and weighs in some epic high percentile. He’s clearly fine. Why does this matter? Then there’s fear of judgment. She’s going to think I’m a bad mother if I don’t know! Then, finally, there’s the vague reply.) Um, I don’t know. Enough?

Dr: (always pressing the issue!) About how many would you guess?

And then I make up some random number just to make her stop asking.

Except this last time, when here’s what I really said: Just tell me what number I should say here so that it seems normal.

Dr: They usually have between a couple and maybe eight per day.

Me: Okay, we’ll go with six.

And that’s my strategy from now on. What do you want to hear, Doctor? Oh, that’s what you wanted? Well, it just so happens that’s exactly what my kid is doing.

The end.

* Or “she,” of course.

** Which is to say, not very well at all.