My big headed baby

I was laughed out of the doctor’s surgery this morning and I couldn’t be happier about it. We’d been sent by the health visitor because little Tater’s head circumference is off the charts, it was when she first measured it 5 months ago, 3 months ago it remained static and she was pleased with that, but on this occasion it had grown another 1.5cm. She wasn’t happy about that and instructed us to take him to the GP. Personally I would have been more concerned if it hadn’t grown at all in five months, but what do I know about these things? And so off to the doctors we dutifully trotted… and he looked at us gone out! His diagnosis? Tater’s has a big head, he’s a big lad (99.6th percentile for weight and 98th for height), Daddy has a big head too (it’s practically impossible to get a hat that fits him), it’s just the way he is. Tater’s head isn’t growing any faster than the rest of him, he’s walking, babbling and doing everything else a child of his age should do – there’s nothing wrong with him. He seemed somewhat exasperated that the health visitor had made such a fuss over a perfectly healthy, normal child.

That said, I’m not really angry at the health visitor, after all they’re just looking out for my son and I want them to be vigilant. I guess this one is another procedure they have to follow, they do so love their charts and he didn’t fit the norm so it worried them. Fair enough, I’d surely be thanking them if something had been wrong and they’d discovered it. But there does seem to exist a certain antagonism between doctors and midwives/health visitors – which really wasn’t at all helpful back in the early days when you tend to prefer your “godlike experts” to be on the same page.

It did make me realise one thing though, if I am ever blessed with a second child I don’t think I should pin my hopes on getting my dream “totally natural, no painkillers, hypno-birthing in a yurt by candlelight” birth this time round either. Number one = big baby with even bigger head. Number two = let’s face it, probably another c-section, might as well come to terms with that now.

Anyway, free of this hanging over us I’m now on a bit of a high. It’s the second piece of good news this week after finding out our boiler was leaking carbon monoxide on Monday – yes I class that as good news, we found out about it before it could do any harm, that’s extremely fortunate. I also got to go out to a gig last night, and I didn’t have to come home earlier because Tater’s had rumbled that I wasn’t in the house and gone mental. Marvellous! I feel like a more rounded individual this morning.

Right, back to dashing around the shops and fighting off the hoards to buy gifts; endless, tedious wrapping and feeling bloated from too many sweets… tis the season to be harassed, stressed and obsessed that everyone else is having a more magical time than you… tra-la-la-la-laa-la-la-la-laah...