I'm not a Nurse Today

While I know the contents of this post can be highly controversial, generating controversy is not the purpose for which it is written. If you want to state your opinions, this is a free world and you may do so, but remember it is also a free world and the next person is entitled to their own opinions.

Today is Logan's two month well child check.

It is also the day he will get his first set of immunizations. As a nurse, I gave hundreds, probably thousands of immunizations. I never batted an eye, I never saw a reaction, I never worried about anything.  Today I'm a mom and I'm taking my child in to purposely have pain inflicted upon him for the greater good of his health and all of a sudden I feel anxious. I worry a little, how will he react? I fret and start wondering if maybe I should wait another couple months. Then I remind myself, I'm a nurse, I know reacting to immunizations is very rare. I know starting him young is good so he can't remember them. I know all these things, but I'm realizing now, three and a half years too late that head knowledge and heart knowledge are two very different things. I know in my head that this pain and these vaccines are good for his health (Yes, I'm entitled to my own opinion here, thank you). But my mom heart says, but can't everyone else just immunize their children then I wouldn't have to? Please? Please? :) :) 

And then there's the other things I can worry about. Is he developing correctly? People comment on his coloring like it's unusual. Is something wrong with him? Did my mom instincts overcome any nursing knowledge that I missed something key I should have noticed? What about his head? See how it's turned to his right in the picture? He lays that way a lot. Are his neck muscles getting too tight to turn the other way? So I worry a bit and the next time I look at him, he has his head cranked the other direction and I breathe a sigh of relief. Am I giving him enough tummy time? People say their two month old is playing with toys, what's wrong with mine because he isn't. Then I justify it in my head and say, the other babies probably aren't either. Just because he holds a toy doesn't mean he's playing with it. And on and on it goes. 

That being said, his smiles are coming much quicker. Sitting on the couch reading stories to his big sister and looking down and his eyes are glued to my face. His big sister comes around and he seems to follow her and watch her. She is just delighted when he "smiles" at her. Her definition of a smile and mine are a bit different. 

And I think, this probably never ends does it? This worry and fear? This anxiety and wondering, will he turn out okay? Because for his sister, it's more down the lines of, should I check out that odd skin pigment on her one arm? She has some mild excema in the winter and people suggest Plexus or probiotics etc. I laugh them off, but what if? What if my nursing instincts are wrong here? What if it's more than just dry skin? And then you hear of little children fighting cancer and the fears can multiply a hundredfold. 

And then there's another angle: am I filling my daughter's mind with the right stuff? Is she learning what she needs to know? Will she require extensive counseling when she's older to learn to deal with the trauma of a mom who had no idea what she was doing? And when will she learn to cover herself up with blankets or not to cry out in the middle of the night because she wants a drink? And then I go in last night to cover her up and she's laying there with blankets pulled up to her waist, quite pleased with herself that she did it herself. Yes, child, I was sure you could, if you would only try. 

And then there's always the comparison game. You can compare sizes, weight gains, counting ability, athletic ability and on and on it goes. I listened to a podcast last week on the power of play and how a child needs unstructured play. It helps their development. Then of course, I can worry, do I plan her days too much with structure? Does she look at books too much? And then, she walks around the house with a handkerchief on her head because she needs a cover. Or she calls out and tells me she prayed before she ate her snack or in the middle of eating it. Or she lines up her puzzles and games and runs around them on her own accord and I think she's probably okay. 

Bottom line, I can't do this thing on my own. I need God's help, God's wisdom, and God's patience with me. He is gracious. He loves me and I, in turn, can pour that love out on my children. I also need D's help. He lends a different perspective, a different angle to child raising. He adds that daddy touch and he is dearly loved by his children, even if oldest child can break out in tears because Daddy took the truck to work and now Mom can't drive it. :) :)

And the final bottom line is this, I am blessed. God has blessed us richly and I would do well to enjoy each moment and quit worrying over the what-ifs. There are times I think I would do well to maintain the nurse attitude and not the mom one.