I took Sophie to the doctor for a check-up today. She hadn't had a check up since we left Provo, so I guess this was her 6-month? Ha. I'm probably a terrible mom for being three months late, but it was a combination of forgetting to make an appointment and trying to decide how or if we wanted to continue immunizing her.
She's 29 inches long and weighed in at just under 17 pounds. That puts her in the 80th percentile for height and the 12th for weight. I promise I feed her. She's just growing vertically and not horizontally!
She got two shots and cried as usual. Then I had to go to the lab next door so they could get a blood sample from her. I thought it was going to be a prick on a heel or a finger. Nope.
I sat in the chair with Sophie on my lap and the tech put the padded bar over us. She put the rubber band thing over her upper arm and felt the inside of her elbow. By this time I was freaking out because I knew Sophie was going to freak out. I hate getting blood drawn, and sometimes if it hurts enough I'll cry a little.
So, as I held Sophie's little arm still, the tech comes over with the needle and goes in for the kill. I couldn't bear to look, so I turned my head, waited for the screaming to start, and tried to suppress the tears forming in my eyes.
I didn't hear anything. I looked back to see if she'd poked her and there was the needle, sticking in her arm. And there was Sophie, quietly watching. Not a peep out of her. I was floored. She didn't whimper or try to pull away; she just sat there and watched.
The tech pulled the needle out, wrapped some gauze around Sophie's elbow, and put a sticker on her.
My little girl is a lot braver than her mama.