Baby weigh-in and I didn’t get off to the greatest start.  Firstly it was not the warm cosy sanctuary I imagined it to be.  It was a local hall with some trestle tables with change mats on, and hard plastic school chairs to sit my still slightly very sore lady bits on.

My first visit was when the big one was a very tiny and constantly hungry three week old infant. The husband had returned to work, so I took my Mum with me for moral support.  At the time I thought my first visit had been a success.  I realised otherwise about three months later when a local government leaflet for Sure Start came through the door.  There on page 2 was a picture of my Mum.  I started at it blankly for a while trying to work out why there was a picture of my Mum in the Sure Start leaflet, until it slowly dawned on me that the very pale and completely knackered looking woman next to her, was in fact me.  

Seriously, I looked better whilst in labour.

The picture was underneath the heading Post Natal Depression.  Now don’t get me wrong, PND is a serious matter and not anything to be ashamed of, it’s just that I wasn’t expecting to be the poster girl for it.  My mum later informed me that I had given my consent to the photographer. In my sleep deprived state I don’t remember seeing a photographer, let alone talking to one. The leaflet was distributed to every house in my local area, or at least that’s what I deemed from all the phone calls and text messages I was getting from my neighbours and newly acquired Mummy friends.

That was my 5 minutes of unwanted fame, and the inspiration for this post:

baby weigh-in


It’s just baby weigh-in.  It will be fine.

I’ve done it.  I am up and dressed.  The baby is fed and we have left the house on time.  Maybe I’m getting the hang of this.

The baby will sleep until we are seen, then we can get back home in time for our next feed and Gilmore Girls.

Shit look at that queue.  Where did all these babies come from?

Damn I forgot that I can’t take the buggy in there.

Phew, extracted the baby from the buggy without waking him.

Sign in!  I’m carrying a sleeping baby, and a change bag, and all my ‘valuable possessions’ from the buggy that I had to leave outside.  Two hands.  That’s all I’ve got.

Wow it’s noisy in here.

I wonder how long we have to wait?

Should that toddler be running around quite so close to all those babies on the floor?

Was that our name?

Did I remember the red book?

Did I remember to lock the house?

Shhhh Shhh, please don’t wake up and want a feed.  There’s no arm chairs.  I don’t think I can discretely get my boobs out and feed you on a chair with no arms.

Maybe I should bring my pillow with me next time.

Yeah right, how are you going to carry that along with everything else?

Maybe I should talk to the health visitor about how often you are feeding.  I mean how can something so tiny need feeding so much?

Was that our name?

Oh crap that’s the health visitor he weed on last time.  Please don’t get her, please don’t get her.

That was our name, okay here we go.

Why did I put you in such a complicated outfit.  I look like I’ve never dressed you before and the health visitor is staring at me.

What is this is some kind of parenting test?

Don’t start crying, it’s OK, mummy will be as quick as she can.

Oh dear this is a full on lung test.

Oh no, he’s weeing.  Shit.  Where’s the nappy?

Now is not the time for distracting countdown music in my head.

I’ve no idea what she just said I can’t hear her over the screaming.

I’m actually sweating.

What was that about percentiles?

Is my baby the only one that has taken serious offence to being naked in public?

Equally frazzled looking mum over there.  Thank god it’s not just me.

Right, lets get you dressed and warm again.

Seriously, why did I choose this outfit?

She thinks I’m a terrible mother.

Did I have anything to ask her?  Yes.  I can’t remember what it was now though.

I don’t think I’ve felt under this much pressure since my driving test.  At least I passed that.  Eventually.

Do we have to do this again?



Did anyone else have similar thoughts at baby weigh-in?


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Claire Kirby

23 Comments on Baby Weigh-in – The Thoughts of a New Mum

  1. I’m always ridiculously sweaty at weigh in. It’s a good half an hours walk away and I am always stressed thinking they’re gonna think I’m a bad mum!

    Haven’t been for many weeks now and I must say it feels good!

  2. Haha I remember this well!! Although mine usually ended with me in tears as the HV used to tell me that my girls were obese!! I stopped going after one of them told me to put my 8 month old on a diet (to restrict milk and feed her water based foods like melon?!) and for that reason my youngest never went to the weigh in clinic and I have no idea how much he weighs unless I stand on the scales with him and work out a rough estimate!! #fridayfrolics

  3. I had all of those thoughts and more-at least I didn’t end up on a leaflet though, that is hilarious! Piglet was also a dab hand at weeing all over everyone at the baby weighing clinic. He always seems to be able to rise to the occasion. He actually weed whilst he was making his exit from the womb. Literally. #fridayfrolics

  4. Totally described my entire brain pattern when I went to weigh in clinics. On my first one I’d cut Oliver nails with baby clippers and accidentally made his thumb bleed. It wouldn’t stop and I was pretty sure that along with observing that I could not change a nappy, dress him etc, I would also have to answer to social services for physical abuse!!

  5. Oh my gosh! This sounds horribly traumatic!! I don’t think we have baby weighs in the US… just as part of check-ups at the doctor? Or is it kind of the same idea?

    I am so so sorry (but also laughing hysterically) that you accidentally ended up on the post natal depression flyer…. 😛

    First time at the #FridayFrolics party and really enjoying it so far!! You’re hilarious. 🙂

  6. Ahh the weigh in. you take the first one every few weeks. The second child gets weighed at about a month, then you conclude that they look fine and don’t bother taking them again until they have their 2 year check. The huffing mums, the weeing child, the crying, the slightly disappointed health visitor who keeps giving you advice in reference to their own children (as opposed to any actual training). it really is a shit process. It look so much nicer on call the midwife,….. loved your post though!

  7. Can’t believe you were in the leaflet! Bet that was a shock. Your post made me laugh so much. I used to kind of dread weigh-in days … my baby was the only one that would eye the health visitors with suspicion and then start screaming her head off the moment I started taking her clothes off! I also found myself stupidly fumbling over the poppers, sweating, and generally feeling like a moron. So you are most definitely not alone! Thanks for making me smile 🙂 #fridayfrolics

  8. Oh I can relate to all of this! Trying to wrestle him in and out of the clothes while he is crying is awful, and he detested being naked when he was first born haha. I can’t believe they put you in the leaflet, sly! I was so grateful to one midwife who let me leave my son’s nappy on for a weigh in after he had consistently weed each time before that! Thanks for hosting‪ #FridayFrolics

  9. I can’t believe you ended up in the leaflet! I didn’t mind them too much actually, though the queues and having to leave buggy are annoying. I did find that some HVs are more sensible than others, however. My eldest was very small when born and for first few months. She was 2nd-9th percentile. Then she started jumping up through the percentiles. Some of them made quite a lot of fuss about this. Some of them noticed that she had also jumped the length percentiles from her birth one of 2nd, and that I’m 5’11” & their dad the same. If she grew up on the 2nd-9th percentiles for everything, she would be really petite. Which is unlikely from her BFG mother. It was just a genetic adjustment – for some reason I had tiny babies, but chances are they will be pretty tall. & surely, as her height had gone up to around 75th, if her weight had remained on 9th, she would have been hugely underweight? As I said, SOME of them could see that logic. Some of them said she had to be weighed every 2 weeks due to her unacceptable weight gain! #fridayfrolics

  10. Oh Claire, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry for you that you managed to inadvertently become the PND poster girl… It did make me feel a little sad, because I went through months of chronic postnatal anxiety, and in that time, there’s plenty of things that I said and did, that I have no recollection of, and it’s quite a scary thought… But the rest of it is so true!! With number one, I went religiously to the weigh in every week! And I don’t know why, because he never, ever strayed from the 50th percentile, so why I sweated my way through all that carnage and screaming, week after week, I don’t know! First time mum hangups I suppose! The second never got taken once-he was 9lb 10 at birth, and nearly 12lbs when the health visitor weighed him for the last time before discharging us to the weigh in centre of doom-he certainly didn’t need to be weighed!!

  11. Haha I remember this well! I think I only went for the first 6 months and then decided that my daughter was happy and putting on weight and convinced myself there really was no need. Seriously, it seemed to always take so long! I used to hate the undressing – especially when I’d only just gone through the trauma of getting her dressed back at the house! 🙂 #FridayFrolics

  12. LOL….What a fab post! Almost like a stream of hilarious consciousness. I was definitely having lots of similar thoughts but I was willing my baby not to puke or poo! Oh yes and I was worrying if I passed, when she talked about percentiles. But when I had my #3 child, I was like yeah, whatever! #Fridayfrolics

  13. I hated it so much that I just didn’t bother going with either of them as soon as I could get away with it. You can tell they’re growing by how well they fill their clothes without any need for this ordeal! It’s just fuel for your already overfed guilt furnace.
    Years ago, I had to go into baby clinics to promote the library service – what women holding too many things, one of which is a possibly screaming baby, need more than anything else is a leaflet about joining the local library. Not.
    x Alice

  14. We have a similar system in Australia – why do they make things so hard for mums in their most vulnerable state? And WHY don’t they have proper feeding chairs ARGH?!?!??!!

  15. It’s terrible isn’t it! I laughed at how relatable your thoughts were. How crazy they took a photo of you for that reason and didn’t even tell you, very cheeky, it’s not depression it’s just motherhood. My son weed everywhere too, it was a fountain, it went all over the table then spilled onto the woman’s feet. I didn’t care so much about that but more about the stress I had trying to change his sodden clothes and sticky back for dry ones. Eurgh. I never enjoyed weighins!

  16. Oh god, this brought it all back! The Baby Clinic is just such an awful experience – I have no idea why I persisted in going for quite so long! After all the faffing of undressing and dressing, and weeing on the changing table (luckily only the once!), I would always ask a question (sleeping, feeding, something along those lines) to which the answer would make me feel even worse than when I came in!

    Then there was the time the Health Visitor assumed I was the nanny as I’m dark and my baby is blonde with blue eyes. Assume I’m the mum unless I tell you otherwise!!

  17. Oh i am just going through this with my new baby – so glad its not just me!! Honestly, I get so hot and bothered its untrue, with the added discomfort of coming in to a warm room from the cold making my nose run, and not being able to find a tissue, whilst trying to talk to health visitor, change and sooth fraught baby, hand over the red book, all at the same time. Am starting to dread going. Always visit the shop on my way home to buy chocolate by way of reward 🙂

  18. I remember those days even though it was nearly I years ago and about to do it again. Nothing like a health visitor and other mums boreing their eyes into you as you try and get a tiny baby dressed whilst they huff and puff because they’re next!

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