Dreading tomorrow. Charlie's first appointment since starting on the pump. Not sure if it will be me or Susanne who takes him into the room to have his blood drawn. We've taken turns in the past. Don't even know what's worse really. Either way it's absolutely horrible. Being the one holding him down with all your strength as he pleads, "No, Don't!!" and screams in an unfamiliar voice. A deep big boy voice that builds to a horrific roar.
Or being in the waiting room, powerless, absorbing the looks of sympathy from other moms and dads waiting their turn, as his cry stops time in the busy office for just a moment.
I've got nothing funny. Nothing witty. Just want it to be over with. I want it to be my arm on the table and not his. I want wings so I can scoop him up and fly far away from the hospital just before the needle meets his skin. I want to be driving home, promising him anything he wants. Anything!