Friday was a very, very sad day. We took Jovi in to get her first vaccination shots. The nurses came in the room and had me lay Jovi on the table. One of the nurses held her legs. The other two nurses took out their needles prepared to give her 2 shots at the same time in both of her legs. I had to hold her arms. She looked up at me as the nurses finished their prep work. I told her, “Hey Jovi, look at that mean nurse over there.” I didn’t want her watching me as she was inflicted with pain.She got a total of three shots, and it went pretty fast. But despite being fast, it was a painful experience, not only for Jovi but for Jill and me as well. She started crying hysterically. I picked her up immediately, and she looked at me as if to say, “Why did you let them do that to me?”
Let me just say that I am the stereotypical guy. I haven’t cried in years. It’s not that I think crying would make me less masculine. I would love to cry if I could, but I was beginning to think that my tear ducts had simply dried up years ago. For whatever reason, I just don’t cry….that is…until I saw Jovi with her sad eyes looking up to me from the midst of her pain. I didn’t fall down to my knees and weep, but my eyes were certainly moist. Seeing her in pain and having no capacity to explain it or make it go away was enough to bring my tearless streak to an end.
As I looked at Jovi through moist eyes, I thought about God’s love for us. It may sound a bit clichéd, but I thought about how God allows us to go through pain sometimes because he knows it is what is best for us. As much as I hated to see Jovi in pain, I’m rational enough to realize that I would rather her go through this brief pain than to develop Polio later in her life. I have a bigger perspective than she does about what is best for her, but that doesn’t diminish the ache that I feel when she suffers.
Well, five days and counting on my new tearless streak….
