This morning, we took the baby in for his booster flu shot. (For the record, I am totally down with immunizations. It's just the immediate reaction of shock and pain I'm not okay with.)
If you're a parent, you know how it goes. You place your precious child on the table, flat on their back. You expose the baby's tender thigh, the nurse swabs the injection site with alcohol, lets it dry a bit, and then asks you to hold the baby's hands. (That part really threw me the first time — I hadn't thought about the need to restrain my child still as the nurse jabbed him with massive needles.)
And then, inevitably, the needle goes in. The baby's eyes widen. There are perhaps two seconds of total silence before the color rises into his cheeks and the screaming begins. Usually, there are multiple shots. So the crying just comes in waves and you feel like the world's biggest jerk until you get the all-clear from the nurse and you pick him up and desperately start babbling all the soothing sounds you can think of.
By the way, I'm using “him” because my baby is a boy.
There are two keys to making the experience something like bearable.
One: Figure out what will get the baby to stop crying. I tried nursing him once. Not interested. Sang to him, which he usually loves. No effect whatsoever. And then his dad jangled a jingle toy about three inches in front of his face. Bingo!
Two: Make sure you have a nice treat for yourself at home. And this is why I had a nice piece of cake at about 10 a.m.
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Mama-Come-Lately 
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