Vaccination Day

Pictures: I had too many cute pictures today, so I started a picasa album titled "Luke". Take a look under "Laura's Photo Albums" on the right if you're interested, or click here:


Welcome to Vaccination Day. To prepare for takeoff, please insert your earplugs, gear up your sympathy tears, and peel off the tiny plastic cover on your miniscule circular band-aids.

Note: at today's appointment Luke weighed a staggering 14lb, 13oz (I'm the one staggering).

Yes, today was the dreaded vaccination day. Luke got his first two shots. And it's true, he was more brave than I was. He was asleep when the nurse jabbed the first needle in and it looked to me like she was trying to hit his femur with a needle that was bigger than my pinkie finger!

Luke voted that waking up from a cozy nap with a needle stuck deep in the flesh of his thigh is his least favorite way to wake up.

And that wasn't the end. We had to have matching band-aids, don't you know. Both thighs had to be poked. Although I think "poked" is not a violent enough word. I use that word when referring to a slight nudge from the soft end of my finger. Gouge, jab, stick, probe, stab, thrust, dig...these are all words that I would think appropriate when referring to the abnormal entrance of a sharp object into soft, innocent flesh. Derek says I better be careful not to pass my fear of needles onto our son. I don't need to pass MY fear onto him. He'll figure it out himself soon enough.

Luckily, his bravery wasn't required for long. It was over in less than three and a half minutes (yes I watched the clock). And ten minutes after that he was asleep again. Thank goodness. The nurse asked us to stay in the waiting room for twenty more minutes just to make sure he didn't have an allergic reaction. So what's with stabbing a baby and then waiting around to see if they break out in hives? Does this seem cruel to anyone else? I was so petrified, we stayed for thirty-five minutes just to be sure we were near a doctor if anything more horrible than what we had already experienced happened. In ten minutes I stuck my finger under his nose five times to make sure he was breathing.

Now I'm afraid to take off the band-aid. There's going to be blood on the other side of it, you know. And what if it's not stopped bleeding yet? What if the sticky part pulls his teeny baby leg hairs? His leg is probably sore from the needle.

Too bad I put him in his cutest outfit to psyche him up for the needle. (Do you think he's thanked me yet?) I just happened to buy the cherry flavored tylenol syrup; I tried to give him some and he spit it out. Now it looks like there's blood all down his shirt, and he keeps spitting out red bubbles like he's bleeding from the mouth. Not only do I have the trauma of watching my baby spit up red saliva, I have to put on yet another load of laundry.

I'm a basket case!

And Luke is napping...again. Don't worry Derek. He's taking it better than me.