The Doctor's Office

Today Will is nine weeks old. Sometimes I think about him and how he's changed our lives, and I can hardly remember how Spencer and I spent our time before his arrival.

Yesterday, I took Will to his two-month appointment. With no understatement or hyperbole, I can only say that it was a stressful event. When we arrived, the nurses took his temperature and did his measurements. Will weights thirteen pounds and ten and a half ounces, he is twenty-four and a quarter inches long, and he has a head circumference of fifteen centimeters. While all this was being done, Will was so cute - he was giggly and smiley and happy. The nurses just cooed over him, and he wriggled and squirmed and laughed at everyone and everything.

Then things started to fall apart. The doctor came in to examine him (everything looks good - she said he was one of the most beautiful two-month-olds she's ever seen) and subsequently told me that the PKU test sample they'd already had to obtain twice (this is apart from the first PKU performed at the hospital when he was born) was no good and needed to be done again. So, in preparation and to help keep him calm, I fed Will for a bit. Then the pain began. To get enough blood for the test sample, the nurses poked and squeezed his little heel for a full twenty minutes. It was awful - he tried so hard and remained calm and quiet for as long as he could, but eventually his poise disintegrated into screaming, wailing, and physical thrashing. I tried my best to calm him, but he had had it at that point.

When the PKU test sample was finally completed, the nurses gave him one oral and three shot vaccines. After it was all over, I picked him up, wrapped him in a blanket and sat down on a chair in the examining room to comfort him. He gave a sad little sob, sighed, and promptly fell fast asleep with his arms curled around my neck. I suppose the stress and fear of the visit overwhelmed and exhausted him.


When I got him home, he didn't seem to suffer any ill effects from the vaccines, but all he wanted was to be held. He didn't even seem very interested in eating - and that's a real departure from his normal routine. Later, he went to sleep early and only got up once in the night.

Fortunately, when I went in to get him this morning, he heard me coming, and was smiling when I came through the door. He seemed to be much happier and to have forgotten the trials of yesterday. I can only hope as he grows that any sadness or tragedy in his life can be as easily overcome.