Thursday, January 3, 2013
I know that, as stay-at-home-mothers, we're supposed to love every single part of our days with our children. While I do enjoy most of my days spent with my children, there are times that I tolerate, and there are even a few that I dislike. (Shhhh. Don't tell anyone.)
But there is one thing about being a mother that I absolutely hate. Don't tell me that it's for her own good; I know that. It doesn't make it any easier or more pleasurable.
What is it? I hate, hate, hate taking Rachel to have her blood drawn. As soon as she realizes that's where we're going (when she hears the babysitter is coming, and she's the only one going with me), then she starts screaming. "I don't want to go! I don't want to!"
Thankfully, it doesn't usually last long. And she is her happy, sunny self again until the phlebotomist puts the tourniquet on her arm. Then the screams start again, and they only intensity when the needle goes into her arm.
It's so hard to hear her scream because she's in pain and scared. It's hard to hear her scream, "Mommy! Mommy!" because she wants me to make it end.
But what can I do?
I took Rachel yesterday for blood work because we have an appointment next week. Meanwhile, she is doing great. To look at her, you would have no clue that there is anything wrong with her, and we praise the Lord for that.