A Day of Fasting

     After knowing about and talking about this day for weeks, it finally came.  The day Lanie would have to fast.  In order to test some issues dear Lanie has, specifically the fact that she pees like a faucet, (sorry, terrible topic) our pediatrician wanted to test her urine and blood after she'd been without food and water.   So I gave her a late breakfast and then nothing until her appointment which didn't start until 3pm.  And since she was going without, the rest of us rallied behind her and we went without too.  I realize the task of children going without food and water for 6 hours seems small, and I know there are children around the world who are without food for days on end.  Knowing this didn't stop me from worrying I wouldn't be able to keep a handful of grapes out of Lanie's hand.  And it did create some cranky moments, but surprisingly, nothing out of the ordinary.

     We stayed home all day which is highly unusual.   I didn't think getting out would help us since getting out usually means being hot and thirsty.  I didn't think meeting friends would be good, because that usually means lunch together or at least a shared snack.  So, we stayed home, filled our time pulling out toys unseen for months and doing arts and crafts that have been stored for a rainy day, and stayed mostly distracted.  Thankfully, the big kids didn't complain about being hungry.  But Lanie did.  And to be honest, I was terribly hungry too.  You know you're the hungriest when you can't eat.

        When we finally got to the doctor, we had to wait quite a while even though I told everyone my kid had been fasting.  I brought graham crackers for the post urine test to tide us over until the deserving late lunch at Sonic.   But before we could leave, Lanie had to have blood work done.  She's never had to do anything like that.  Besides regular vaccines, she's rarely been to the pediatrician.  And God bless her, she handled it like a champ.  There's something very honest about a child preparing to sit through something painful.  Her eyes were so fearful while the nurse punched around for a vein, & the tears that dripped out while she stifled her crying, just about brought me to my knees.  My sympathy is wide for parents who have seen their children through stitches, broken bones, & operations.
   

Looking for a vein, before she laid down & I held her tight.

      But in all of this routine drama, what I was a bit unprepared for was the reaction of my sensitive, empathetic Lydia.  While they were filling the vials of blood, I looked over for her and she is kneeling over the chair, crying.  Elijah was concerned too, not to the point of crying, but I could see how uncomfortable he was with the situation as he bobbed behind me trying to coo, "it's alright Lanie; good job Lanie" and patting her head.  I've never thought about how siblings would react to something like this.  At home, they care little if they hurt one another, but this was different.  A professional adult was causing their sister pain and she could do nothing about it.  It was amazing to watch.

After all the crying, I snapped this picture.

     When it was all over, I didn't know who to hug more.  So, what did I do?  I group hugged them, snapped a picture (shameless) and then carried Lanie out to the treasure chest with glowing praise of bravery.

Cuddling when we got home.

Lydia's sweet card to her sister showing off her bandaid.