I think the second one was a joke.
Brad asked, after every individual examination, "is that alright?" or, "that's normal, right?". After the doctor proclaimed her to be in the 4th percentile, Brad rolled his eyes and said "Oh, God, we have a midget!". He was laughing, but you all know how he is. The doctor said "She's just slim."
In other words, I'll be absolutely piling food of all sorts onto her plate, giving her Instant Breakfast as often as possible, and making sure she's getting enough calcium.
... And balancing both of those tasks with putting Brad at ease. She's quite normal for length and head circumference, so there's really nothing aside from nutrition to concern ourselves with.
She's going to hate the Pediatricians Office like a dog hates a car ride. Everytime she goes, she gets poked and prodded and pierced with sharp things and lights shined in her eyes... They don't even have any toys in the waiting room! Can you believe that? In a pediatricians office?! They have several mobiles - behind the desk! Maybe it's for the sake of sanitation, but still. There were tons of toys at my Pediatricians' in Florida. Heck, there's even toys at Urgent Care.
Books and Bryan Adams on Muzak are not enough to calm a nervous baby that clings to us like a Capuchin Monkey.