While Elanor has indeed crossed the magical 16 pound hump we’ve been waiting for her to cross for something like 5 months, she isn’t gaining enough. So about two weeks ago, she was put on an appetite stimulant. Which kind of fucks my brain as a fat girl–appetite STIMULANT? Can’t I just give her 5 pounds off my ass or something?
But the truth is that while I crack jokes, every time I change her clothes my heart breaks a little. You can see every single rib. You can see each bump of her spine. She doesn’t look “petite” or “thin” or “small”–the words everyone uses when they see her running around in clothes–she looks frightening.
So we have started the appetite stimulant. As if giving her the prilosec twice a day wasn’t emotionally damaging enough for all involved. We also have a strict new eating schedule to adhere to (in theory). In practice Elanor continues to call all the shots and we kind of hover over her nervously when it comes to the topic of food.
I have to hope that this works. Because if it doesn’t, the next steps are very frightening.