Yesterday we brought Carina to the lab for her blood work to check to see if she has any metabolic issues due to her {almost}
non-existent growth over the last few months. M went into the tiny room of death with her and two phlebotomists and they shut the door behind them. I waited outside because I knew if I was in there I would freak the eff out.
Being right outside was no better. She screamed and cried for what seemed like hours (in actuality it was about two minutes) and I sobbed along with her the whole time. When she was finished I nursed her and we headed home. As soon as we got in the car it was like nothing had happened; she was back to her old happy self. I, on the other hand, was traumatized all day long. Every time I think about those little screams I start to tear up...I blame pregnancy.
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| It's okay Mommy, don't cry! |
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| My brave, strong girl |
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| Needles can't get me down - back to playing! |
I am such a wimp. This was worse for me than it was for her. So now we wait for the results, and hope for the best.
