Baby Miles

has his MRI the day after Christmas. It’s scheduled for 730 and we have to be there at 700 a.m. and his last feeding has to be BEFORE 3 a.m.  Now, his usual schedule the past week or so has been a feeding around 1030 or 11 and then a little something at 5 a.m.  Guess who is really NOT going to understand why mommy won’t feed him?  And guess who is really going to be a tearful mess (hint: besides Miles)?  He IS allowed to have clear liquids like pedialyte up until 5 but I have my reservations about him actually being very keen on that. Maybe he’ll be so tired he won’t notice what we’re trying to put down him.

I HATE that we have to do this. I’ll be glad when it’s over.

I wish we lived in a shiny happy land of rainbows and unicorns where babies didn’t suffer from hypoxia and need cooling treatments and where MRIs where unnecessary and there were no diseases so babies wouldn’t have to have mean old four-at-a-time vaccines in their itty bitty widdle wegs.

I guess that will be Heaven. (question: How can there be Heaven without babies?  I mean, babies that don’t cry, of course…)

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