The Needle and the Damage Done

Eilish is a whopping 9 weeks tomorrow (or 2 months yesterday - not sure when I should stop counting in weeks - if you know please leave a comment) and we celebrated by going Dr. Star and letting her jam 2 needles into my baby girl's chubby yummy thighs. More on that later. As of today, Eilish weighs 12 pounds 3 ounces, is just under 24 inches long and her head measures something that I forgot to write down but it's a good measurement, her head is growing nicely.

So the needles. We knew they were coming, it was the reason for the appointment and Owen and I decided (I had decided) that I would not be anywhere near the doctor, the baby or the needles when the time came. First the doctor answered all my "are you sure I'm not killing the baby" questions (one thing I have to start doing is making Eilish "go left". She tends to favour turning her head to the right so during tummy time which she hates I've got to start getting her to "go left" which is hilarious and necessary to ensure I don't raise a lopsided baby!) and got ready to inject my precious baby girl with horrible, horrible serum that was going to protect her in the long run but break my heart in the short run. I faced the door, Owen held the baby but didn't look directly at her (he didn't want her to associate his face with needles) and Eilish cried and cried and cried. Y'all it was freaking horrible and we have to go back in 8 weeks to do it all again.

She was a little fussy tonight but we didn't want to rush to give her Tylenol which was a good thing because it turned out the fussiness was due to excessive tiredness. I'm not against giving her medication if she's in pain or had a fever but only as a last resort. The last resort tonight was a little bottle and a little bed and hell, isn't that what everyone wants?