One Month...Shots!!!!

Happy one month birthday, Levi!  What does being carried on this earth for a whole 31 days get you? That's right; a shot in the thigh! (and after he let us know he was hungry about 3 minutes prior)

Let me tell you this, never have we seen Levi's face as red or his mouth as open as when the small needle was quickly stuck into his leg.  I cannot even imagine the feeling.  I cringe at the thought of having a sharp object poked into me at the ripe old age of 27, so imagine your skin, pure, never been poked (that you know of...right after birth doesn't really count) and a sharp object is jabbed (there's no nice word for getting a shot) into your leg.  Levi's face said it all.  He seemed to stop breathing as his mouth opened wide, his face the color of a wax covered, red delicious apple.  You know, the kind you never felt comfortable eating, but did (and still do on occasion) because it is fruit after all; it must be good for you.  And then "it" came.  A sound so piercing I thought I had another earring after it was all done.  All we heard was "WHY?! Why do you have to do this? Don't you know how much this hurts?! I will sleep through the night!  I will sleep through the night! Whatever you need, just don't do this!"  Our hearts dropped as we quickly scooped little "Bubba Lou" up and calmed him down...Tash held him as he came to grips with the fact that we were not torturing him and indeed still loved him.  Luckily, the doctor's office was not busy and Tasha was able to nurse in the examination room right then and there.  

Tasha and I looked each other, we did not speak, but our faces said it all...."That was ROUGH! But, thank God it's over."  Levi ate his way into a state of bliss as I wondered if this could be the beginning of a bad habit of stress eating that has been known to run in the family. It's funny how you question yourself more than ever as a parent; hoping that a small mistake or perceived mistake won't have any lasting effect.  I imagine paranoia runs deep within the parenting community.  

We endured a bullet (in the shape of a needle) and started to relax.  We took a few deep breaths and watched as Levi chowed down, his breathing becoming more in tune with ours as well.  Then the nurse stepped back into the room, handed us a prescription for Vitamin D (apparently breast fed babies need a supplement) and stated, "This is nothing.  Next visit, he gets 5."  Get the hugs, breasts, and bottles ready; we will need everything in our arsenal.  

Until then, Happy Birthday, Bubba!  We love you and promise these shots are for good reason!