Vincent had his four month check-up this past week. What a growing boy! He is now 14 pounds 2 ounces and 25.5 inches long - evidently that places him the 50% for weight and 75% for height. So he is perfect and tall. The doctor also calmed our worries about his possible flat head. He recommended we place him in a sleep positioner at night that would allow us to lay him on his side. We would have to switch him to the opposite side each night to ensure a beautifully rounded head. I found this advice to be eerily similar to baking a rotisserie chicken.

At Vincent's two month check-up, he was given four shots: two in each leg. Before the appointment, I told Edwin I couldn't bare to be in the room to watch him shrill with pain. But when the moment came, my "fright or flight" instict was disoriented. I remember seeing the nurse place him on the table and asking Edwin to hold his arms down. That's when I started back-pedaling towards the door. But then I stopped. I felt like I was watching a horror movie, I literally stood there with my hands over my eyes. I wanted to look, but I couldn't. I listened.... and then my fingers involuntarily split wide enough to get a glimse of him seconds before the shots were given.

And, one short squeal later, he was smiling at me wondering what just happened.

I went into his four month check-up with that memory - thinking I knew what to expect.

Riiight.....

I guess at four months their bodies are more in tune to pain. The nurse poked him twice; once in each leg. The poor little guy wailed and wailed...then his face turned bright red and stiffened...and there was silence. His little body shook to try and regain the next breath of a scream.

I felt horrible. Edwin felt horrible. We stayed in the office a good fifteen minutes afterward to try and console him. Of course all of that energy expenditure wore him out and he was soon fast asleep in his car seat. At that point I thought, "at least that is behind us and he can wake up to a fresh bottle and be happy again."

I should really stop assuming things when it comes to an infant.

Vincent was not himself. During the next 24 hours, we could only hold him in an upright position on our shoulders or seated in his bouncer - otherwise he would scream in pain. We would try and feed him, but the bottle would only rest on his bottom lip as he wailed and wailed. I felt so helpless. I kept wishing time would pass quicker.

Thankfully, Vincent is now back to his cheery self; smiling at daddy and laughing at mommy's silly antics.

Now,...about that rotisserie chicken...