HG got his first round of shots today. Five of them. One right after the other.
We showed up at the pediatrician's office for his two-month (!) checkup and, after briefly airing a few concerns with the doctor, a nurse stepped in carrying a box full of needles. What happened next made her really laugh. HG batted his eyes and gave her a big smile, as if trying to charm his way out of all this. No such luck.
Once the shots began, HG did a lot of screaming. The needle would go in and he'd let loose a big holler before, quick as can be, the nurse would remove it and he'd start to settle down. Of course, almost immediately the whole process would repeat itself... and repeat itself... and repeat itself. It was heartbreaking to see HG continually think it was over, only to find out again and again that there was more to come.
As it happens, I'm afraid of shots, myself - like to a nearly phobic level - so it definitely pained me to watch the little guy go through it all. However, the need to be there for him made things much easier to bear. I leaned over and spoke comforting words into his ear as best as I could think of them. Poor KG was pretty upset as well. On the surface, she was rock-solid (no surprise there) but when everything was done and I stole a glance at her, she was really crying. It reminded me of the time, years ago, when my nephew was circumcised and my sister fled the room in tears. Mother love is a force of nature.
Anyway, HG's home now and - all worst fears to the contrary - he's perfectly fine. Other than the fact that he's sleeping more than usual, nothing has changed at all. Phew.
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