That. Was. Wretched.

Knox just had his two month well check-up. Which means… shots. I have been dreading this moment for his entire little life. If the kid cries for wanting to be picked up it makes me sad, I couldn’t imagine have to watch him get stuck. I know he was stuck constantly in the NICU, which was awful, but they wouldn’t let us watch when they did it. The actual appointment went really well, Knox weighs exactly 11 pounds, now, which I pretty much figured. I asked his doctor about his smiling because he’s not really doing it. He has smiled at me, but it’s definitely not a regular occurence. He said not to worry about it since he was born almost a month early. He said if he’s not being more social by mid April to call.

Then it was time.

The nurse came in with the two shots (he’ll get his second Hep B at his next appointment, thank goodness) and the one oral vaccine. The oral meds were no problem because the munchkin will eat anything you stick in his mouth. But the second that needle went into his skin, he SCREAMED. Face bright red, gasping for air, screeching like you were killing him. I had to hold onto his hands while she did it, and it took everything I had to keep from crying. How embarrassing that would have been, mother and son both sobbing about two tiny shots. Even after the sticks were over, he kept howling. They let me go into a doctor’s office and nurse him which calmed him right down. Another example of why breast feeding rocks! He is now laying on my chest sleeping, and he has two blue Snoopy band-aids on his chunky little thighs over his battle wounds. Poor baby.

Two shots + one boobie full of milk= one tired boy