The Bloodbath

This is the dear sweet face of a baby who has had a very rough day. A baby who could only be soothed by Baby Guy. I took her to the pediatrician today for her 9 month well check. At nap time. That sweet baby put up with measurements and discussions and exams and more discussions asking repeatedly to go to sleep. She signed it to me, she yelled it at me, she sighed with resignation. Until finally she just fell asleep mid-squawk in her sling with her head lolled on my chest. Her sweet safe spot. 

So I guess I wasn't thinking when the nurse came in with the needles and the capillary tube for collecting her blood. I knew she was getting her finger pricked and I did my best to wake her. In the end, I let her sleep and settled for informing her in her sleep what was going to happen. Biggest mistake of motherhood so far. Her eyes snapped open with pained accusation at the prick of that needle. We got the blood we needed while she screamed in my ear and put the cotton on it to help with the bleeding. Only it wouldn't stop. For 10 minutes we held that cotton on while she screamed. We were holding her hand and squeezing her finger which pissed her off more. We finally elected to stop so that we could get the shots done. 

*gasp* 

The screaming and wailing and blubbering that ensued after that I will never forget. And at the same time, I hardly remember it. Because with each new breath, her tiny balled up fist emitted another tiny stream of blood. After 10 MORE minutes of screaming and holding, we finally put a precarious band-aid and cotton wad on the tip of her tiny finger and made it to the car. I'm sure you can hear the sobbing for breath that only a wee one can make after a good, long fit in your head. It was so sad. And just as I put her in the car, she ripped that band-aid right off. And the bleeding started all over. And so did the screaming, because (oh the injustice!) I wouldn't let her eat that band-aid. 

So I did what any good mother would do. I took her back in and made them fix her. They did the CBC at this point to make sure she had platelets. She did and after another 2o minutes of screaming and chasing her with a huge wad of tape and gauze, they decided to work. We left with what looked like a mangled boxing glove coated with liquid Tylenol and every cootie up in that place. That bandage made it all 10 minutes home where I had to tape it again. Thank God I had left Clare here with sweet, wonderful Callie. Thank God she was calm and that I had supplies and and and.....

My friend Kristy handles those appointments better than I do, I think. And yet even she says "well every time one tear sneaks out." And she's right. One tear always sneaks out. And it's really all we can muster. The tiniest release in the moment is all we get sometimes as parents. We can fall apart for one, fleeting tear of a moment and then we have to pull it together and get through it, because if we don't, who will? It's the hardest part to me. I'm learning it slowly and often without much grace. But I'll keep at it. It is why I was put here. Until I'm good at it, I'll rely on nap time to recover and know that a trip to the park can fix just about anything. Well, that and Baby Guy!