V-Day

This is not what my baby looked like after our latest trip to the doctor.   It was the dreaded vaccination day.  My wife and I both knew it was the day but we dare not even whisper as much as a peep about the impending doom.  We were thinking the same thing...don't say it, or think it, and it just might go away.  After going through the normal ritual of height, weight,  and head measurements it was confirmed...our boy is a biggin.  He's now in the 95% for weight,  90% for height, and he continues to eat and eat and eat.  All hours of the day and night he eats.   The Boy has no respect for societal norms when it comes to meal time.  If it's 2:30 PM or 2:30 AM The Boy is hungry.  We saw a baby at dinner last night and we asked the couple "how old is your child."  I thought they were going to reply around 12 weeks  but they replied "9 months".  Ayden was nearly as big as this kid and he's only 9 weeks.  I digress.  So the doctor runs through her normal litany of tests.  She pokes him, prods him, stretches him, scrunches him, and listens to him.  I began to think we had gotten away with something and then she said the dreaded words so effortlessly and with such ease..."soooo, I guess today is vaccination day".  You're gosh darn skippy it is Doc. 

We spent a half an hour discussing the upside, downside, and all in between.  As it turns out today he was up for three different vaccinations.  The medical community, with all of their intelligence, wisdom, and years of research apparently could not find a way to put three shots into one.  That's right, my baby was about to get stabbed with a needle not once, not twice, but three times.  Not good. 

The doctor turns over this dirty work to a nurse so that there is no blood on her hands.  The poor nurse seemed to be as upset as my wife and I which did not make me feel confident about the whole situation.  She explained what each shot was, and proceeded to lay Ayden on the table.  It was go time.  Everyone was holding a part of my baby as the nurse picked up the needle.  She said "here we go" with a quiver in her voice and she raised the needle high above her head and plunged the steel shaft into my baby's thigh.The nurse depressed the plunger and filled my baby with tears.  At the moment the tip entered my baby's flesh, I think I saw the nurse flinch.   He let out a scream that would've melted the coldest persons heart.  Then we moved on to round two.  Same result.  Finally she grabs the third one and proclaims, "this is the bad one".  What the hell does that mean!  What do you call the first and second one?!  Turns out she was right.  The third one elicited a scream from my child that was other worldly.  I said that is enough.  I demanded the Tweety Bird Bandaid's, grabbed my baby, and we all went home to eat.