My daughter's first shot


My thoughts on Braelyn's first real brush with the painful reality of life

Today, the inevitable happened. My daughter Braelyn had her first shot - or four to be more precise. It was a truly difficult thing to watch. Our nurse was, thankfully, quite swift with the shots and the whole thing passed by quickly in real time, but in parent time (and I'm sure baby time) the whole ordeal seemed much more difficult and long. Braelyn held her mouth open for quite some time and made no sound... and then, they crying.

She is, as I previously mentioned on this blog, a very happy baby. She rarely cries without a distinct purpose in doing so - she's hungry, needs her diaper changed, etc. But never a cry like these. I remember reading in a book my mom and step dad gave me (She's having a baby -- and I'm having a breakdown, by James Barron) about this day and he really said it well -

"Now the clincher: your kid the genius doesn't know the shot will hurt. You watch. You cringe as they're cleaning his thigh. It's in; it's out. Nothing. Your baby looks at you with shock; you feel you've let him down big time. Then comes the loudest creaming since birth, and you, involved father, sink to the lowest point of your new fatherhood. From now on, you know that your baby is aware of the joy-pain quotient of life. You hoped Eden could last. But it can't."

I looked over at my wife and she was crying too. It was a telling moment that gives a perfect glimpse into just how much she loves our little baby girl. I could see it almost (or perhaps did) effect her as much as her daughter. Of course, we can comfort ourselves in the knowledge that Braelyn has just been rescued from a number or far more painful or deadly things - but try explaining that to an infant. As it was, all we could do was hold her afterwards and explain that it was over and she was fine.

But I guess that is just the part of being a dad that you don't like but have to do. Certain actions protect while still hurting, certain things must be done that can't be explained until later. I know that I would gladly have taken those shots for her if I could have (and I hate shots). It makes me wonder what our Heavenly Father must go through - the things which His infinite wisdom knows are ultimately better but currently painful for us, the impossibility of explaining to us the ultimate outcome of an action. But we have a Father who not only empathizes with our pain from afar, but is able and did come and take our place for us. God did what I could not - He preserves His children from the spiritual and destructive force of sin by taking the brunt of that pain on the Cross. My prayer for Braelyn is that she will one day understand this and join me in praising God for it, and that I will be able to explain to her how our sufferings, like today, remind us of the sin that causes them and unite us with the God who has suffered for us.

Posted: Wed - March 1, 2006 at 03:42 PM | | | | | | |

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