The CT scan yesterday was, admittedly, a special kind of torture. (I can barely gag contrast down, myself, let alone get it down the throat of a gagging, sobbing 5 month old who is used to only breast milk. It took almost an hour. Then they couldn't find a vein to inject the contrast so he got a needle worked around in his arm for a while. Don't get me wrong, the staff there was wonderful, but seeing your baby literally strapped to a CT machine, oy vey. And he was so good.)
I did overhear the head tech, while they were getting Dashiell's images, say,"Wow this kid is well fed." (Joel stayed with him for the actual scan while I watched from the back room. I love my husband.)
So, everyone at the radiologists office got to listen to me sing lullabies and Billie Holiday songs all afternoon, but it helped keep Dash calm and me sane. It may not be much, but singing to the baby is at least doing something. You could tell he was scared, but he was so brave. Now we are just waiting for results while continuing to keep him close.
Your prayers and support mean more to our family than you can ever know.
Thank you.
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