Happier times.The l'il man was proclaimed "perfect" today at his two-month check-up. I've been saying it for weeks, but we finally have validation from an MD!
He weighs 11 pounds, 4.6 ounces. He's also 1 foot, 11.25 inches, which is just a hilarious way to put it. He's 1'11". Mah boy is tall and lean and thriving. I don't want to admit this for fear that my milk will spontaneously dry up, but I'm proud that he's exclusively breastfed. I don't know if I ever believed I had it in me, but somehow the girls are able to sustain life. It's a pretty powerful thing, and it makes me give thanks for my new body, pencil skirts be damned.
Of course, the two-month visit meant SHOTS, holy fuck. I felt so duplicitous, trying to distract him with a pacifier, looking into his serene baby blues, and then BAM! The needle is thrust into his tiny thigh... He was momentarily stunned, and then his face turned deep crimson and he screamed in silence. Lord, that silent cry shatters my soul.
Mama's sorry, baby. But this way, you won't get pertussis. Someday, you'll thank me.
3 comments:
He has the most beautifully shaped eyes!
Sarah - it actually wasn't as bad as I thought. I only welled up - I didn't bawl like I did in the hospital.
Allie - thanks!
the shots are the worse. that innocent face looking at you all sweet and smiley and then just like you said BAM! suddenly you've become the enemy, BETRAYER! and so it goes for the next several well-baby check-ups. *sigh*
Post a Comment