On November 30, I took Stephen to his four year checkup. He knew he would need shots, but surprisingly, he didn't protest much about it beforehand. When the time for poking came, he sat on the table, and I held his upper body close to my chest.
The nurse gave him two shots in the right arm. Then he looked up at me with wide eyes, biting his lower lip that was pointing downward, trying to stop the tears that were clearly forming in his eyes. Oh it just broke my heart! At this very moment, the memory brings tears to my own eyes.
Before the two other shots in the left arm, he tried slowly moving his arm away, but the nurse told him to keep it still. So he did. After the last two pokes were done and over with, he buried his face in my chest and let loose all of the sobs that he was holding in. We stayed there, holding each other for what seemed like a very long time. I felt so bad for him, but was so proud of him for being brave. And, I am happy that he found comfort in his mother's arms.
No comments:
Post a Comment