Getting Shot

Sadly, Caleb had to get shots today. This may seem odd for anyone who stops to think about it. Caleb's seven and a half months old. What shots do you get at seven and a half months? Or even seven months? Maybe eight? You get your four month shots, of course.

When we were in Texas, we took Caleb to the pediatrician for his two month check up to get his shots. After our appointment, we called our insurance to get the appointment "pre-approved" only to be told that they don't cover vaccinations. Which meant that the bill we got from the doctor's office was well over $500. At that steep rate, we decided to wait till we got back to Utah to get his four month shots.

I scheduled Caleb a doctor's appointment at the student health center at BYU before we even got back from Texas. Sadly, they don't do vaccinations at the health center. So Caleb didn't get his shots then. He was five and a half months at the time. Then we went to Hawaii. Then to California. Then we were home for a month but just kept putting it off. Mostly because I didn't want to do it, knowing that the baby wouldn't like it.

Brandon decided that it'd be a lot worse if Caleb died from smallpox because he didn't get vaccinated against it, so today, he took the baby into the county health department or wherever it is that they do the shots at. I didn't go. I couldn't bear it. When they got home, Brandon said it was probably a good thing that I didn't go, because Caleb cried a cry Brandon had never heard before. A "I'm in serious pain" type of cry that would have definitely made me start to cry. I'm overly emotional now that I'm a mother. (Before becoming a mother I was just emotional.)

The good thing about the day is that the grand total for the baby's shots today rang up at $36. Yeah.

The bad thing is that Caleb is so super unhappy. He was fine when they first came home. All smiles. As if he didn't even remember what had happened. But that didn't last. Not even after taking Tylenol to help with the pain. The poor little guy. Makes me want to cry to hear him cry. (Which is a stark difference to when he normally cries -- i.e. the middle of the night -- and I tell Brandon that it isn't actually our kid crying.)