The Longest Day
In the three plus years of being parents, we’ve been pretty lucky. Band-aids, kisses, and the occasional liquid candy (aka Children’s Tylenol) have been our remedies. And now, I’m mentally enumerating the things I would have done to take my child’s place today in the hospital’s emergency room, where her left leg was put in a full-leg cast. I should start a new reality show: things you would do to protect your children from harm. My list included amputation. Full-body casts. Of course, my mind has been in the bad place for most of the day.
I had to watch as Laurel crumpled to the ground in the hospital as she tried to walk to me so that the doctor could figure out what was wrong. I held her legs down in numerous uncomfortable positions while they x-rayed her. I positioned her leg so that the orthopedic doctor could put the cast on. And tonight, I supported her when she tried to stand up with a full-leg cast and ended up crying and frustrated in my arms.
And I swear, I would give so much to take her place. My heart is just broken.
She fell about five feet off a platform at the playground today. She was up there playing; I went around the other side to show Kelsey how to use the “speaker” to talk to Laurel on the top. Then I heard a thump. Followed by Laurel, crying. I look, and there she is, lying on her back on the ground. A million things raced through my mind, the first one being, “Oh, she’s fine.” And she was, mostly. I made her get up by herself and walk two steps to me to rule out spinal/back trouble or broken legs. She did, crying pretty hard. Once she got to me, I put her in the sling and walked around with her until she stopped crying. I checked for swelling or bruising, and I found none. We left, and both girls ate a snack in the truck. We went to the YMCA to play somewhere safer (the padded kids’ gym), and I put Laurel down to play. But she woudn’t support her weight, her legs trembling, and she began crying the “pain” cry. We headed right to the hospital. Allen met us there soon after.
Six hours later, we left with two very tired children, one in a purple cast that goes half-way up her thigh. Jeff came over and cooked us a wonderful dinner, and–thank all the gods–he brought beer.
I know how lucky we are. I know this won’t be my only trip to the hospital. I’m thinking of all my friends who are parents tonight and voicing a small prayer to the universe: keep giving us the strength to smile, to wipe away the tears, to say “it’s OK” even when it’s not.
Now I am going to try to forgive myself so I can look Laurel in the eye without guilt. Goodnight.
Oh no!!! Oh my god…. I’m *so* sorry this happened. I hear you about feeling guilty and wishing you could take her place; I’m sure I would feel the same way. (Though anyone who is a parent knows, you can’t be in two places at once!) Hang in there everyone!
Thanks, Steph! I think I’m going to be Laurel’s shadow when we’re at the playground from now on. Well, after she’s out of the cast, of course. She’s going to be in the mommy sling for awhile, and that’s just fine with me!!
At first I assumed you were talking about Kelsey. Very suprised to hear it was itty bitty Laurel. You just don’t think of the little ones getting hurt like that. The bigger kids are the ones who dangle precariously from the jungle gym. Poor little Laurel. I guess it’s good she’s so little, she’ll forget everything. She’ll just have the nicknames to remind her of her days with the cast…Thumper…Peg Leg…Laurel Laurel Big Purple Leg Laurel. Be careful, though. That thing can be used as a weapon.
We’re all glad she’s feeling better and glad it wasn’t worse.
Aieee!! Glad everything’s better today, for all you Holts. Kids are pretty super-powered in terms of resiliency and adaptability. Why does that power go away when you get old like me/us? Again, relieved that everything’s okay and getting better!
“Thumper”… heh heh, I like that.
Thanks for the well-wishes, all. They’re sincerely appreciated!
And Terry, you shouldn’t feel guilty at all about this. You had your eyes on two live kids for all but 15 seconds; 23:59:45 of doting and attentiveness is commendable, and to be applauded. Down here in Florida (where I think they’ve changed the state flower to the Unwed Teenage Mother), I see parents who are *oblivious* to their kids activities, utterances, and perils for as long as you routinely are the opposite. So you keep up the good work.
Thanks, all. Michelle, I think we’re going with “Scooter” for her nickname, although Allen keeps calling her Thumper. Tim, you’re a sweetie. I think it was more like 10 seconds, but who’s counting?
Update on Scooter: she tried to climb the balance beam at the kids’ gym today at the Y. She’s been dragging herself, purple leg clunking along behind her; she rolls like she did at 7 months of age; she pulls herself up and stands, putting some weight on the leg, and is kinda cruising around the table. She’s nursing a WHOLE lot (hello, I’m Mrs. Tits-a-lot once more) and acting like the old Laurel, add cast and diminish mobility and getting into trouble. Allen stayed home today and is now out buying me chocolate. What a guy. All is well, and all is well, and all manner of things shall be well.
Aw, poor Laurel. It totally sucks to have a kid in the hospital–ESPECIALLY at an age when they can’t understand. There’s just no way to tell a one year-old that “No, this big scary x-ray machine is not going to eat you.” I think that photo of Laurel looking down at the cast with the classic WTF?!@?#! look on her face says it all. It’s good to hear she’s on the mend (and Momma, too!)
Oh, Terry… I’m so sorry that this had to happen. As if entertaining and getting around with two kids wasn’t challenging enough! I’m here for you if there is anything that I can do to make this a bit easier…
Wow! I’m soooo sorry, I had no idea what happened until IM’ing with your mom a few days ago. I know how you feel though after going through Faith’s skull surgery way back when (helpless, frustrated, angry, guilty, etc.) Accidents happen though and IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT. At least it’s “only” a broken leg (that still sounds horrible - but worse things can happen - like the shark attack victim near our old stomping grounds - weird). Anyway, the best part, I guess, is that she won’t remember this and she’ll be good as new before you know it.