Mom Trauma

I experienced my first "trauma" with Brody last night.  After 2 hours in the E.R. we took him home with his first battle wound: a single stitch. Coffee table: 1 Brody: 0. . But I'm getting ahead of myself. It was terrifying in the moment. Almost slow motion. I watched it happen, thinking to myself "I should stop him" but not processing enough to act. Of course I have been beating myself up about it. Why didn't I grab him? Why wasn't I paying more attention? I know Mom, kids get hurt. But I can't stop replaying it. Although watching him bounce in his baby einstein this morning you wouldn't know anything happened last night. He's my happy, smiling boy.  Our baby boy is ready to walk and he shows us that by holding onto to the coffee table and shuffling up and down the length of it. Last night was no exception. Except this time he was being stubborn and fighting sleep and up past his bedtime. So I'd say he wasn't at his peak shuffling condition. Dad stepped into the kitchen to get something with the intention of coming back to the living room to put Brody to bed. I was sitting on the couch on the other side of the coffee table half watching Brody half reading The Great Gatsby. I looked up and saw him reaching a hand to the end table knowing he was going to try to go from one piece of furniture to the other. I also saw the magazine sitting shiny on top of the end table thinking that looks slippery. Thinking if he reached for it it could slip under his hand. Thinking that, while he reached out and fell. It looked like the worst fall ever. It sounded awful. Again, I felt like I watched it happen in slow motion. I was up an instant too late and my baby was face down on the ground letting out huge cries. I yelled to Jeff and scooped Brody up turning him over in my arms. I saw it then, blood! Dark blood pouring from his mouth. Seeing your baby bleed like that: terrifying. The worst feeling. I hugged him close trying to comfort him; trying to comfort myself while worst case scenarios played through my mind. I instantly insisted we go to the ER. In the moment his lip looked like it was gaping open and from the ordeal I've learned having a Doctor tell you your baby is OK just makes everything ok. It's a mind thing I guess. Jeff, the voice of reason in our little family, took a much calmer approach. He got a damp cloth and started to clean up the blood, actually taking time to look at the wound and examine the seriousness of the situation. I should probably mention that by now Brody was completely mellow laying in daddy's arms and I was the crying mess. We called Jeff's mom and sent her a picture of Brody's wound wanting another mothers (and nurse) advice. She agreed we should take him to the ER and warned he will probably need stitches. She also warned that would probably be the worst part for us. It definitely was. Once we got to the ER I had calmed down enough to really asses the situation. Maybe he didn't need stitches. I couldn't imagine someone sticking a needle in his tiny little lip. I just wanted to hold him close and protect him from everything.   If you've been to the ER then you know unless its life threatening you play the waiting game. So wait we did. And Brody snoozed. That left a lot of time for Jeff and I to debate on if we even needed to be there at all. We thought about leaving more than once. Our reasoning being: what's a little scar. But after the dr. finally came we realized if one tiny stitch will avoid a visible scar for the rest of his life lets be proactive and let the dr. do his job. I was holding our sleeping Brody while the dr. examined his lip; gross. He was stretching it open, pinching it together, moving it all around and I could feel myself getting queasy. I don't do open wounds. Jeff kept catching my eye trying to keep me calm. Brody slept right through it. We put a topical numbing cream on his wound, sat for fifteen more minutes and the team of nurses and dr. came in to do the stitch. I got exiled to watch from the door while Jeff and two nurses held my baby down. I know I'm making it sound awful, but for me it was. The dr. was quick and efficient. It didn't seem quick enough at the time. I know Brody didn't feel anything but having people hold him down was scary for him. His cries broke my heart. I wanted to barge in there and grab my baby.  I wanted to take everything he was feeling away so he was calm and comforted. But it was over quick and daddy was rocking his tears away. And before we knew it we were home and my baby was fast asleep in my arms.  Jeff and I made it through our first ER visit just fine. I couldn't have done it without him by my side. He is my rock when I waiver. He stays strong for me when I'm weak. And he loves me when I'm crazy! As for Brody...he woke up with his usual smile in place ready to explore like nothing ever happened. He's resilient. He's so much stronger than I give him credit for. And I think this whole thing made me a little stronger to. Mommy love does that to you.