Wednesday, 26 May 2010
Today, I held my boy whilst two women plunged needles into his chubby little thighs and then I cuddled him whilst he screamed.
The thought of strangers hurting my baby has been haunting me for weeks and there's been many a time that I've imagined my helpless horror at the sight of the needles and my heartbreak at the sound of his sobs.
It's always disconcerting when reality tuns out to be an improvement on your imaginings and today I left the surgery with a quiet sense of relief.
Yes, I felt as though I'd betrayed him and yes I wanted to smother him in kisses and take away his pain. But his first set of immunisations were over and although there was a moment of pure horror in the silence before his screams, it was not as bad as I'd feared.
All the same, the experience left me unsettled and craving the comfort that only cake can bring. So as the little boy slept I soothed my guilty conscience by baking a chocolate fudge cake.
Loving can be a painful and lonely pursuit, but there's an amazing sense of well being that descends as you lick the chocolate-fudge mix off the spoon.