I hate shopping. I hate leaving the house because every time I do, someone always asks how old DD is, and I answer with her actual age. Their response is always "oh my goodness, is she ok? She's so little. Like a newborn!" My answer is always the long and painful story, told and then I feel crappy for the rest of the day. I hang my head in shame and walk away just about in tears...

Yes, she's little. She was 850 grams when she was born at 29 weeks and 1 day. She's come so bloody far, and all they can think about is I'm starving my poor DD. or she has a serious medical condition.

I feel guilty for drawing up her medication, her losec for severe reflux, her iron because she's anaemic... I feel guilty for the umbilical hernia she has developed because she and I got suck.

I kind of want to shut the doors and lock everyone out. But I know I can't

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