The Calm Before the Storm

BeFunky_DSCN3308This morning I knew it wasn’t going to be a good day.

It’s her 12 month appointment, and I knew she was going to have to get some shots. I’m the mother that doesn’t handle that sort of thing well, with my eyes close to tears when Aurora is screaming in seeming agony.

I get there 20 minutes early, fill out my paperwork and sit down to wait. Also in the waiting room is a mother and daughter, and the daughter is bouncing around and coughing loudly, while her mother tells another parent there that she thinks her child has mono. Immediately my senses are heightened and I try to politely turn my dear daughter away from the probably mono-infested child. The less than thrilled nurse comes to the door, calls Aurora, and in we go – with ten minutes to spare before our appointment time, I might add. Success. The sooner I’m in, the sooner I’m out.

I go in, and the nurse asks (like I should have known this),

“Did you bring Aurora’s shot record with you?”

“No, should I have?”

“Well, we have nothing scanned for her records, so, yeah.”

Let me just bring up the fact that at Aurora’s 9 month check up, this same conversation happened, but we just moved from Utah, so it made sense that we should have her shot records. I called my old pediatrician, had them fax over her records, and all was well. They received the records, but I guess did not scan them.

“Well, this happened before. Did they not scan them?”

“I have nothing in the computer.”

She leaves, I call my old pediatrican’s office, they agree to fax them — again — and my doctor comes in. Everything with the check-up went wonderful. He complimented my mothering, said she’s beautiful and growing perfectly. I was feeling good. He mentioned on his way out that the shots were on their way. 20 minutes later (and it’s really hot in those little rooms) the same lovely nurse comes back in. I asked if she’d received the fax. She said, “I’ve received nothing.” Great. We finally get all that taken care of, and the shots begin. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to those stupid things. She buried her head into my scarf while I tried to whisper in her ear that it’s okay. Heart wrenching.

After that ordeal, the nurse mentions that she will have to have some blood drawn in the lab. Sigh. Bring it on. I go downstairs and enter the ill-lit lab (why must they ALWAYS look soooo grim?) only to find that it is jam-packed with elderly people waiting. I sign in, and am quite aware of the silence – because every noise Aurora makes is echoed and exaggerated. We wait for 45 minutes. I was on my mom A-game. We played with the water fountain, we read through some political magazines, we played with the fake plant that needed desperately to be dusted, I threw her up in the air, twirled her around. She was pretty good considering the circumstances.

Then they finally call our name. I breathe in deep and go in. The second we sat down and the young nurse grabbed her little hand, she knew something was coming and started to freak. She again buried her head into my chest, and we started another cry-fest.

And then when he was finished, she peed all over my leg.

And that was the cherry on top of my morning.



The Morning After

I have officially had my first experience with a sick baby. Like, a throw up sick baby. And I would prefer to never experience it again. Babies just don’t deserve that kind-of grief! It was so sad to watch and not really be able to help. She threw up 4 times total, and then went to bed at 5:30—happily. She woke up at about 6:45 this morning and was struggling. We gave her a sippy of half apple juice half water, and she is back in bed. Last night, she just laid on the couch and watched Snow White while I rubbed her belly. She doesn’t really watch TV, or lounge on the couch, so this was a sign she was feeling rough. Poor thing. Here’s to hoping she’s feeling great on her birthday!