Today I managed to get both of my kids and myself dressed and off to the health unit for our sons first round of vaccinations. My visit this time greatly contrasted that of my first visit with my first born. For starters, I was early today (remarkable), I knew where to park and where to enter the building. I remembered my licence plate number all on my own so my vehicle was not going to be ticketed. I did however; manage to dress my little guy in many many layers which I had to remove before we could get an accurate weight and measurement of his height (this part is the same as last time, what can I say our weather is unpredictable). So after removing the impressive amount of clothing and collecting the new data we were ushered into the little room where “it all happens”. This little room where my first ever real taste of horrific “Mom Guilt” ever hit me.
Now my experience the first time around was extremely emotional. Perhaps the personalities of those involved mixed with my newly forming mommy hormones created a poor recipe for success. I can’t say it was the lady who administered the shots fault because I don’t see her face in my nightmares and I can’t recall who she was or what she looked like to know enough to avoid her again. All I can remember is trying to distract my baby with feeding (which I am not comfortable nursing in public with no cover to start with) and seeing the look in my babies eyes when they gave her the first shot. Those of you who have kids know how intelligent and in tune these precious little ones are. She knew I had tricked/ sneaked/ mislead/ bamboozled/ and worst of all deceived her. I had offered her the security of feeding time and instead she got stuck in the leg- nasty mommy. Cue the inconsolable weeping, and the baby cried too. We left the room both with some sizable tears and redness to the eyes- we looked rough enough that the little girl who was in for her five year old booster turned to her mom and said, and I quote “I don’t want to go in there”. We were a sad sight.
Today was great. That same eldest little lady (whom I was sure would never trust me again) came with me and helped the nurse set up to give her little brother the same doses of medicine that taught me so so so much in my first two months of being a mom. That day I learned that God gave me my kids to take care of to the best of my ability and when I screw up I don’t get to “throw the baby out with the bath water”. I so desperately wanted to do that day over again with her and be the strong emotionally stable mother I felt I was able to be today. But I can’t and God knew that when He allowed me to have children. He knew that I would mess up, forget to brush their teeth, be too tough on dumb little stuff, not catch all the naughty behaviours, let them watch Star Wars way too young, the negatives list could go on and on. But He also trusted me to love them like crazy, cheer them on, and most importantly teach them about his grace and mercy. Teach them about how He loves us so, that He sent His son, His baby, as a sacrifice for our sins. I like to think that I would not require someone to die for me to be able to understand a lesson- but that is exactly what was required. Death so I might be saved. Remember “Might” is no guarantee (I am a calculated risk girl, I don’t like those odds, I would have liked 100%). What love.
Dear God,
This week I would like to thank you for the opportunity you given us by allowing us to be parents. I would like to pray that you would continue to teach us through life experiences so that we may become more able to understand and appreciate the sacrifices made for us and our kids.-AMEN
Ps
Baby number two cried and took his shots like a champ-mommy did alright too and we managed to leave the office without striking fear into the next victims , oops I mean patients.