Oh the trauma of the 12 month needles… Whilst we have ridden this immunisation merry-go-round 3 times before, I cant say it is getting any easier! I know the facts – it’s a damn side more malicious to in fact avoid vaccinations – but oh, when can they work out a way that’s a little less barbaric than piercing my baby boys oh so soft skin with an icy sharp needle? And THREE times over this time too… It was almost a delayed response, after the first needle went it. But my cheering and shouts of how brave my boy was soon gave way to some serious soothing as his precious little face simply crumpled in an instant from sweet smile to screaming and sobbing within seconds. It’s little wonder the Panadol has come out this morning. I’m sure if he was allowed a stiff drink he’d have put his hand up for one of those too! Harrison was giving his guilty Mummy the loveliest cuddles this morning, and all because he had no idea what lay in wait. I think I’ll be faring less favourably in the affection stakes as the day wears on as the look of utter hurt that flashed across his face as his tears splashed my hands, broke my heart into a million little pieces. Its akin to a beseeching plea “But how COULD you? What could I have possibly done in the short time I’ve been awake this morning to warrant such a world of fear and pain?”
Overly dramatic? Probably…. And I am sure it really is worse for me than it is for him! Next time, its Daddy's turn to take the injection rejection!