Abel got some shots today. Two pokes- one in each thigh. Everyone in the room cried a little, except the nurse. But after a long boob snack in the exam room, Abel seemed to be in better spirits- even showing us some of his best "Mr. Cute-Cute" smiles. That was at 11am. By 2pm, Abel was a feverish, hot little potato, crying longer and harder then ever before. He whimpered, sobbed, ate and slept and did it all again and again until 9:30 when we added another foreign substance to his 11 pound, 8 ounce body- baby ibuprofen. Now he is off to dream land (hopefully NOT dreaming about Pertussis, Rotavirus or smiley nurses with needles).
Tonight, my musings to the universe include:
A hope that Abel continues to use his loudest voice to tell us when he is hurt or sad or mad or happy, or just needs lots of cuddles. And a hope that we will always hear him.
A prayer for all of the caregivers and parents who have little ones (or big ones) who deal with big sickness or pain- I can't imagine all of the heartbreak that involves.
A thank you for this beautiful boy.
PS: Did you all hear that Abel's Dad is working on an inlay for Carlos Santana as we speak?!
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