Scheduling Baby Champuru’s doctor appointment at 1:45 pm was a HUGE mistake. Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking. That is smack dab in the middle of her nap time — and getting in the way of her sleep is just asking for a meltdown. When we arrived at Pali Momi, she was adamant about not wanting to sit in her stroller. Her blood-curdling screams echoed throughout the parking structure as she arched her back and did her best to make it impossible for me to get her strapped into the stroller. I managed to keep my cool and outlast her on the battle of wills on the stroller wrestle. Once she was safely secured in the stroller and we started rolling, she calmed down a bit — that is, until we stepped into the crowded elevator. Again, she started with the ear piercing wailing. The decibel level was enough to shatter your eardrums, intensified by being in such a confined space. It was the longest elevator ride in the history of mankind. At least it felt that way as I averted my eyes from the other poor souls unfortunate enough to be sharing an elevator with us.
As soon as I exited the elevator, I extracted Baby Champuru’s bottle from the cooler bag and fed her right there – just outside the elevator doors. Yes, it was that urgent that I get some milk in that little tummy to calm her (and my) nerves, pronto. Trying to push a stroller while holding a bottle in the correct position for baby to drink isn’t easy, but I had to get us to the doctor’s office before her appointment time. I must teach that girl how to hold her own bottle soon.
When we got into the doctor’s office, she seemed sufficient sated and calm, even as I undressed her and she got weighed and measured by the nurse — that is, until the doctor himself showed up. For some reason, he ignited her stranger anxiety and she freaked out. Big, huge tears streamed down her face and she shrieked like he was abusing her. (For the record, he wasn’t.) She didn’t stop with the brain melting bellowing until he was done with his lightning fast examination and deposited her into my arms.
Surprisingly, however, she was impressively good for the blood draw. After that previous performance, I was preparing myself for the worst. When the lab tech did the finger poke, Baby Champuru didn’t even flinch. She sat in my lap, quite still, although she didn’t appreciate the tech holding on to her little hand, squeezing her finger to collect the droplets of blood into the vial. The tech commented that Baby Champuru was remarkably strong. We Okinawans are built tough, I tell you.
After the lab tech wrapped Baby Champuru’s finger in gauze, we met the doctor in his office and when she caught sight of him again, she started crying again. I had to give her a pacifier just so I could concentrate on what he was saying.
All in all, Baby Champuru did quite well at today’s visit. It’s just incredibly bad planning on my part to schedule her appointment at the worst possible time of day. It’s all a learning process.
