I had plans to recap our family vacay all this week, but those planned got a little tripped up.
Literally.
Jax took a monumental spill on our way out on Monday evening and smacked her pretty little head on the edge of an open door. The impact split a huge gash on her forehead and the amount of blood sent me into complete panic.
Normally, in tense situations, I am able to keep a cool head, usually able to make deliberate, smart decisions when faced with unexpected, traumatic events.
But seeing my child’s face covered in blood and hearing her cries of pain sent me into hysterics. I did make the decision to snatch her up and drive her to the ER, however, in my frenzied state I probably should not have been behind the wheel.
I did manage to keep the sense of mind to keep my bleeding baby focused and alert by singing funny songs through my own tears and asking her about our vacation. She responded and even stopped crying when she saw how distressed I was.
My girl. I love her so much.
My husband who was in the shower when this all went down left the house a few minutes after us but still managed to arrive at the ER before me. I shudder to think about how fast he was going and I am thankful we all made it there safely.
Once I sat down in triage with my wounded daughter I really lost it, the shreds of sanity I managed to cling to to get my baby to the ER safely vanished and I sobbed uncontrollably. The triage nurse was so reassuring and nice, confidently telling me that the wound was superficial and Jax was just fine.
But the blood. There was so much of it. Still oozing out of the gaping slash on her head. I was not convinced.
We were taken back right away and immediately told her cut would need stitches. My heart sank. I was hoping some steri-strips or maybe derma bond would hold it closed, even though I knew the cut was much too deep for either.
On the drive over I called my mom who arrived shortly after we did with my little sister in tow. Jax loves her grandma and her auntie Sarah so that was a great call on my part. They were able to calm her because my whole reaction to the ordeal was keeping her anxious. Once they arrived, you’d have no idea she was hurt. Except for the copious amounts of blood dried on her face and still oozing from her boo-boo.
Did I mention the blood? It was pretty grisly.
So Miss Jax stayed happy throughout the cleansing of her face and wound, but when the doc came suited up for stitching, securing her arms with a pillowcase and holding her prone to the bed. She lost it again and so did I. Bad.
So bad I was asked to leave the room so Jax could calm down. Her daddy and grandma stayed with her and I am thankful for that.
She stopped crying after a few minutes and instead starting laughing and saying that whatever they were doing “tickled.” It was the nervous laugh she does when she gets in trouble or when she gets scared and hearing it broke my heart.
When I came back in the room, still a wreck and weeping she took one look at me and said. “No cry mama, boo-boo all done.”
I melted and broke and fell in love with this amazing creature all over again.
She hasn’t cried or complained or picked at her owie at all. She woke up this morning happy and ready to play and I still felt weepy and traumatized.
What a brave and strong girl. Everything she does amazes me.
