As parents, we never want our little ones to get hurt. It breaks our heart every time they skin a knee or bump a head. However, it is absolutely terrifying when they get really hurt. I mean hospital visit hurt.
It is never easy to see your baby cry from pain. You want to cry with them most times, but you hold back to give that strong front to help them get through the pain. I have already had my fill of this in my short time as a mom so far.
Three weeks before my son turned four, he slipped, fell, and broke his arm just above the elbow. At first we thought it was just a sprain, since he could still move his arm, and the swelling was minimal. However, a couple days later, his pain got significantly worse and so did the swelling. I took him to the hospital, where we spent a day and a half waiting for them to fix him up. The entire time he could not eat due to needing surgery, so I also did not eat. He was one heck of a tough guy though, only crying when they first stuck the IV into his arm. I broke down before he did when the staff kept lying to me about when they would take him in to surgery. Instead of first thing in the morning, it ended up being last one at night. He was exhausted and starving by the time they finally reset his arms and inserted two pins, but I was so proud of how brave and strong he was through the entire ordeal.
Unfortunately, his pain did not end there, as four weeks later the pins had to come out, and the cast off. The screaming as they wrenched the second pin from the fused bone shattered my very soul. He recovered quickly, but I still think about what he went through, hoping it never happens again.
So far he has managed to not break any more bones, but his sister gave us one heck of a scare very recently.
They were both racing down the stairs, and he bumped into her. She won the race with her flight to the bottom, but it came with a bump to the head, and a concussion. At first, we were scared she broke her back, as she could not speak or move her legs. Luckily it was just the wind knocked out of her, and she started moving her extremities and talking to us. However, it was not as simple as getting the wind back into her lungs, as she showed signs of memory loss. Enter anxiety and panic.
She became very repetitive asking the same questions about what happened. Then we realized she could not remember anything that happened within the last two weeks. She forgot we moved to a new house, and her brother just having a birthday. My heart could not sink any lower. I could tell she was so confused and scared. So was I.
I sat with her for over two hours working with her on memory exercises and trying to assess the severity of her situation. Her headache never worsened, and she never got dizzy, so far great signs. It was clear she had a concussion, but we did not know the extent of the short term memory loss.
Then, a sweet relief washed over me when she started remembering her brother's birthday party. She finally recalled tiny details, such as the color of the piñata and cake design. Thank the Lord in all his might. I cried with joy as I continued to draw her memories back and test the retention of new ones. Her bubbly, silly, and sassy personality started to re-emerge. She was okay.
These two are my absolute world, and every time something happens to them, my world turns dark, even if only temporarily. We do everything we can to keep them safe, but we cannot protect them all the time. It is a hard lesson for all of us to learn, but it is among the most valuable.
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