I'd only dabbed away a little blood when I saw, to my horror, a deep 1 inch long gaping gash on his little forehead. At that point, I pretty much lost it. Scrapes, cuts, bruises....I can handle those. Gaping head wounds...not so much. Crying and completely freaking out, I called 911 first. I was shaking so much, it took me three tries to unlock my phone keypad before I could dial (which strangely enough, is a recurring nightmare of mine....I have to dial 911, but have problems working the phone) Once I had a 911 operator on the phone, I had another problem. I was holding Little Man who was screaming and I didn't know the address of the house I was at. I finally found the address on some mail on the counter, but neither the operator nor I could hear each other over Little Man's screams. I finally managed to yell the address loud enough for him to hear and hung up. I laid Little Man on the floor and went to get a phone book so I could call the lady I babysit for to tell her what had happened. After she got me to calm down enough to actually speak English, she called her father-in-law so he could come over and take over babysitting for me. My phone was going dead, but I threatened it severely and managed to make two more calls. One to my parent's house, thoroughly scaring my younger sister and dad since I was too hysterical to make much sense, and one more call to Hubby at work. He arrived just as we were walking out to the ambulance. He dropped Princess off with his mom before following us up to the ER. Because Little Man had a head wound, I had to keep him still and awake during the 30 minute ride to the ER. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a baby who is past due for their morning nap awake while being held by mommy during an ambulance ride while not moving him around? He cried some on the way up there, but only because he was irritated that we wouldn't let him fall asleep.
While waiting for the doctor to examine Little Man and stitch him up, Little Man was his normal self. He was smiling, playing, and walking (with Mommy's help) all over the exam room...only difference was that he had a gaping bloody gash on his head. Kind of killed the cute baby look. When, after 20 minutes of a numbing solution, the doctor came in to stitch up Little Man's gash, I excused myself to the waiting room. Hubby got the honor of holding our screaming son down on the table while the doctor and nurses fixed him up. I will deal with illnesses, scrapes, bruises, and breathing issues (e.g. Princess), but when it comes to that, I'm out. I would've been crying harder than Little Man and no help at all. As it was, I was a mess sitting out in the waiting room. When they were done giving him 8 stitches to close the gash, a nurse came to get me and I ran back to see my sweating, sniffling baby boy. Apparently, 10 month olds can hold a grudge because he wanted nothing to do with his daddy and wouldn't even look at him for a while.
|My cute little Frankenstein|
Anyways, that's my day. The whole ordeal was much harder on me than it was on Little Man, who was a little trooper the entire time. Don't forget, this is the kid who doesn't even flinch when he gets shots and is constantly whacking his skull on something. He's just a tough little boy.
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