Imagining in Your Heart

Last week Rowan went for his pre-kindergarten check-up at the pediatrician. After he undressed and snapped himself into the soft, tiger-paw-print gown and been weighed and measured, the nurse leaned in close to me and whispered, "Brace yourself. He's got five today." "Five what?" I asked, not understanding. "Five immunizations," she confided. My stomach sank. I'd been prepared for one or two shots, but five? Five jabbing pokes into those slim thighs, pale and soft like rolls of unbaked dough? My boy was brave. I held his hands (That's the mom's job, to hold down the arms. The last time Rowan had shots I didn't hold tightly enough and in lightning speed, before I could even blink, he reached down, grabbed the needle from his thigh and wrenched it free while the nurse and I looked on, dumbfounded. This time I held more tightly). I looked into his wide, brown eyes and murmured as the needles plunged. He jolted on the table, the paper crinkling as each jab punctured. By the fifth shot his lip quivered and he gasped. But he didn't cry. So where does a mom and boy go after five immunizations?

Visit Michelle's blog Graceful to read the rest of her post "A Shot in the Heart."

"Swinging on our new ladybug swing" by Mindwhisperings. Used with permission. Post shared by Ann Kroeker.