Fast-Forward to First Shots

 The day finally came. I had successfully avoided all of those first shots and decided with the help of his doctor that it was best for us to spread his shots out since he was not going to daycare, rather hanging out at home with mommy all day! Here we are, April 26, 2012. He is all smiles today. Making this whole experience even harder. Why can't today be a pouty day and you're screaming already so I don't have to feel bad about them pricking your chunky little legs? I've recruited my mom to come with me because deep down I know that I'm going to handle this much worse than he does. There is a whole new part of yourself you find after you've had a child. I've always been a pretty protective person- but this has escalated to an entirely new level. I'm a soldier willing to sacrifice myself at any moment to avoid pain and suffering for anyone in my family and especially my son.  I spend the morning telling myself he is not even going to notice that it is happening. He is going to be so pre-occupied with all of the lights and the paper on the table that he will have no idea we are going to shove a needle into his thigh. I debate whether or not I should just not take him. Really, how important are vaccines? Is polio a real concern right now?!?! Then my rational being steps in and smacks my unrealistic self into shape. GET IT TOGETHER WOMAN! It's two shots, and once we got there it was not even two shots- it was one that he swallowed and a shot. GREAT! Just one. That's all we have to make it through.

This guy flashes his million dollar smile at the nurse, completely trusting that the worst she is going to do is take his temperature. She is taken with him, saying how pretty he is, how sweet and what a gorgeous smile! Of course I think all of those things, but is it just polite for someone to tell you your baby is pretty? I mean they wouldn't go out of the way to tell you they aren't. 

The first of the vaccinations goes down pretty easy. He is tired after the hour wait in the waiting room and he's slowly letting himself get sleepy when the worst of it starts. 

"Lay him down on the table"

Part of me is relived- SHEW! I don't have to be holding him, the last thing I want is him to be looking into my eyes when he gets his shot. 

"Okay, now I'm going to press his legs down with my body and I need you to hold his arms down."

Damn it. 

That's not what I wanted to hear. I look at my mom with pure panic. I'm being a complete child about all of this, but I hate to see him hurt. She gives me a stern pat on the shoulder and those "you can do it" eyes. One hard blink and a few alligator tears fall. Time to put on my mommy face. I hold his arms against his body and he is thankfully already screaming from being held so I don't have to look into those precious blue eyes when he realizes he is getting a shot. 

It's over as quick as it began and he's fine! To my utter delight as soon as I pick him up we have that instantaneous delight to be in one another's arms again. I love him!

We made it and he is asleep in his graham cracker's arms before we get to the car. 

One more month before we do this all over again.