Now, after all of the blood draws and injections of IVF, it's not like I'm squeamish about shots. In fact, I almost enjoy them now because it makes me feel like a bad-ass that they don't bother me. (I take my bad-ass where I can get it these days.) But watching your child get poked is a whole other ball game. Heck, I don't even like watching the pediatrician put a cold stethoscope on her chest. Overprotective, anyone?
So, anyway, we got to the office and had our regular appointment -- height and weight measurements (she's 9 pounds, 8 ounces!), ear and eye check, etc. -- and then we started the Shot Talk. The ped gave us a sheet with all of the things that could go wrong that we should watch for (thereby guaranteeing that I would see EVERY ONE OF THOSE THINGS), and instructions for Baby Tylenol. Then he left for what seemed like an hour to get the fun stuff.
Do any of you have pets? Do you sometimes feel really bad when you know they're about to go to the groomer or the vet, or take a long car ride (if they hate long car rides like our cats do)? Because you know what's coming and they don't? Well, this was like 100 times worse than that.
The shots themselves went quickly, but not so quickly that the Chicklette didn't start shrieking immediately. Poor little pumpkin. We calmed her down (the Mr. took a day off yesterday to come with me to the doctor -- how awesome is he?), and she was asleep in her carseat by the time we left the parking lot. She slept for 4 hours (!), and then woke up and proceeded to howl for 90 minutes. Then she went back to sleep, and woke up and starting howling again. Then she went down for the night -- 12 hours with one short break for food at 4 a.m. -- and woke up my normal happy baby again.
(Oh, and how I know she's my kid and the clinic didn't grab the wrong petri dish? During her relatively brief but traumatic moments of alertness last night, she put down about 15 ounces of milk. Like her mother, only an act of God could kill that appetite.)
So, all's well that ends well, but I think I aged about 5 years last night. Such a wimp. How I'm going to survive the next 18 years is beyond me.