Learning to depend on God

You know, I've come to find that I think I depend on God but when something tough comes up I realize how much less I depend on Him than I thought. We have had a rough couple of months. It began with Eloise's unexpected rocky birth and 10 day hospital stay. Since then she has struggled to gain weight. Once she was released from the hospital we spent 3 weeks driving to Kingsport each week to have her weight checked. She was eeking along the low side of the "normal" weight gain curve but her pediatrician felt she was making enough progress to stay away until her two month well baby checkup (ie today). In the last month she's continued to nurse regularly every 3 hours for 15-30 minutes, latches well, audibly swallows, and has had normal outputs. However, Mike started saying the other day how he thought she was looking skinny. Naturally that's all I've been able to think about since then. So today when I undressed her and laid her on the scale at the Dr's office, I found I was holding my breath. The reading popped up and my heart sank. 6 lbs 12 oz (she weighed 6 lbs 14 1/2 oz at birth and was at 7 lbs 2 oz at her 1 month well baby). We were told that based on her weight alone she should be hospitalized but because our pediatrician knows we are responsible parents (her words), she was comfortable with sending her home for the week and having us write down all of her inputs and outputs while we wait on results from her blood/urine work. This means I have to pump my milk out and make sure she eating about 4 oz at each feeding by bottle. No problem.

What's crazy about this is that if she isn't receiving proper nutrition, she should be showing other signs of malnutrition. Instead she's happy as a lark and strong as an ox (seriously...this kid has some super strong legs/arms and excellent head control--as a matter of fact, Mike laid her on her belly tonight to help with gas and she pushed up, tucked her arm in and flipped to her side). We came home and I pumped but only got 2.5 oz which was discouraging. I paired that with some frozen milk we had stored and when it came time to eat, my child ate 2.5oz and stopped. So either my milk isn't enough and she's used to 2.5 oz or she fills up at 2.5 oz so that's what I make. Either way, not enough. Though I know I shouldn't feel this way, it makes me feel as though I'm failing as a mother. I want to breastfeed my daughter. I'm not against formula. but I believe that breast milk is better and I'm willing to nurse her. The fact that she may be under nourished because my body isn't properly producing milk seems as though I'm failing at something that should be naturally occurring.  Which again brings me to: I don't depend on God like I should/think I do. I KNOW God has a plan and that plan is for prosperity and not harm. I simply must remind myself of it when facing struggles like these. My brain needs to get in line with my spirit and rely on what the Lord tells me. I believe that God's hand is on little Eloise (that's already been shown multiple times) and I know that He will use this to our good as well.