Baby was booked in for her six-week immunisation jabs this morning (diptheria, tetanus, acellular pertusiss, polio, Hep B, haemophilus influenzae type B and meningococal B). Initially I was content to take her to the medical centre myself, but the boy wanted to offer support - and just as well, too.
Held lovingly but firmly by her dad, she had two jabs in one thigh and a jab in the other - each time, Baby wailed with pain. Each time I heard her cry, my eyes burned with sympathy tears. Perhaps this is what motherhood does to you, making you feel someone else's pain. Actually, I was impressed by how well she took it; mere seconds after each injection, Baby stopped crying as though she'd forgotten all about it (though in truth she was probably succumbing to sensory overload).
The poor mite slept poorly until about half an hour ago - about five hours after her ordeal. After she spat out most of her Pamol (Paracetamol for babies) we made an unspoken decision to abandon our sleep training temporarily, and took turns cuddling her to sleep.