When I was a kid, I was terrified of needles, terrified of stitches (I only had to get one as a child, luckily) and terrified at the thought of breaking a bone. I was reminded of those feelings today, when Violet broke out into tears, at the thought of having to get immunizations before going to school, after hearing me ask about whether she needed boosters because I couldn’t remember three years back when Olivia started kindergarten.
I’ve got memories of a kid, of being lied to when it came to get immunizations – and being told we were going to a play (don’t do this to your kid, ever), horrified memories of getting cavities filled and being terrified, even into adulthood at the thought of having an IV or gasp, an epidural. So much so, that I almost vomited in the prenatal class we took when I was pregnant with Olivia, where they showed the epidural.
Blood work during three pregnancy, the knowledge that an epidural would likely be a better option for my lowest-pain-tolerance-ever and the knowledge that it doesn’t hurt (or make you vomit) if you don’t look at it being done, have me like no-big-deal when it comes to needles, now – but I can completely identify with her tiny little almost-five-year-old self that is completely terrified at the thought of getting punctured with a needle – because up until just a few years ago, that was me, in adult form!
I can empathize with her, and though I know in my mind we’re not going to skip any immunizations because duh, I kind of just want to scoop her up and hide under the blanket with her, because let’s face it, it sucks.
I told her she would be fine, she will get over it, and she will stop being scared of needles when she’s older. I explained how it used to be scary for me too, and that it was best for her but that I got it. It sucks.
But I still just want to scoop her up and skip all the tears.
For now, we’ll just medicate with a trip to Chapters for some Splashlins. When you’re four, that solves just about everything.