The shot thing is a little weird, because I usually feel bad that I don't feel worst. Don't get me wrong, it breaks my heart when she FREAKS out when they hold her down and get her in both legs a couple of times each...but I know it's the best thing for her, so it doesn't bother me that much. Particularly the instant they're done. I'm basically fine and don't mind the few seconds of her cuddling with me before she figures out she's fine too and there are interesting things on the wall to look at.
When I take Keira to the doctors office, for about an hour I have many people (whose opinion I value as I perceive them to be credible because they're in the medical profession) tell me how awesome my kid is. How beautiful, healthy, smart, and big she is. It's awesome. I literally walk away struggling more than normal with PRIDE about my great kid. Literally, I've had nurses walk into the room and say, "I heard there was a Gerber baby in here! Oh my goodness!" It feels good.
While I need to confess and repent of my pride of going to the doctors, we did have Keira's 6 month check-up a couple of weeks ago. She weighed 19 lbs 7 ounces. She's more than 28 inches long...that's off the charts for height (99% for weight). She's so big, we've had MANY panicked moments of looking through her drawers thinking that she didn't have anything to wear...but Christmas and the generosity of family have gotten us through those bumps, so hopefully we won't struggle with the naked baby syndrome for a while. Literally, when I do the laundry each week, I make different piles as I fold. Jammers (yes, that's what we call pajamas at our house), play clothes, hang-ups, and too small to be packed up. EVERY WEEK!!!
She finally cut teeth a couple of days ago - yes TEETH - 2 of them. Limited rolling, but she's showing her stubbornness as she is clearly able to roll, just doesn't feel like it. One day she'll get it. One day.
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