So for the first two or so weeks of Bo's life we were at the doctor's a lot. He was very yellow and his bilirubin numbers kept rising, even after being discharged from the hospital. I don't know if he ever officially had jaundice but he was headed in that direction. So we were taking him to the doctor every day and then every other day there for a while to get his blood tested and his weight taken. When I say we, I mean Frank because after the first day, when the nurse made my newborn son scream bloody murder while squeezing one drop of blood at a time from his heel and scraping the vial against the place where she stuck him, all the while blithely saying he'll never remember it; after that day where I cried in the exam room and nearly punched the nurse in the face, Frank suggested that I stay home and sleep while he took the boy to the doctor.
Seriously, don't tell me that he's not going to remember it. That's a jackass thing to say. I know that I'm a brand new mom and totally hormonal and everything, but you are causing my tiny, brand new son to be in pain right now and you're being condescending and dismissive about it. I don't care that he won't remember it later, I don't care if you've done this for eleventy million years and have tortured hundreds of babies. You're hurting my son and while he may not remember it, he's surely in pain right the eff now so please, a little compassion. Or how about if I stab you in the eye as long as you won't remember it later?
Anyway, Bo's numbers eventually started to go down and he was back up over his birth weight at five days old so the risk was over as quickly as it was identified. He's totally fine now.
We go tomorrow for his 6 week well baby visit and he'll get his first round of immunizations. I can't wait to see what he weighs. I'm betting on 15 or 16 pounds. The boy is a moose.
Also, gangster.
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