When your toddler looks at you with terror in his eyes and blood pouring from his mouth, your life stops.
I was all but done with grocery shopping when it happened. I needed just one more item before checking out: milk. The pasteurized product is my boys’ favorite drink. They slurp down cups and cups of it every day. With my cart full of food, I strolled over to the dairy aisle. I was busy checking expiration dates on gallon after gallon when I heard my first born scream.
I was terrified when I saw Reichen crying, clutching his face, and begging me to kiss it and make it better. Every since he was born, that’s how I’ve fixed his little boo-boo’s. As soon as mommy kisses it, the boo-boo is better. It always works. Always. But even I knew that this time, it was going to take a lot more than my kisses to fix his face.
When I asked my two year old to move his hand so I could take a look, a flap of skin moved with it. Blood poured out of his face and into his mouth. He was so scared. I was scared too. Nothing like this had ever happened. Until that moment, I wasn’t sure what kind of mom I would be when my son was seriously injured: calm or crazy.
I felt a whoosh of calmness run through my body. It was an amazing feeling – one I have never experienced before. Translating sob after sob, I pieced together that Reichen hit his mouth on the edge of the shopping cart. The result: he popped his front tooth through his bottom lip.
I pushed my cart to the front of the store where I asked an employee to walk me out. Since my cart was packed with groceries, I needed someone to walk them back since I obviously would not pay for them now. I strapped my one year old in the first car seat and my two year old in the other. I called my husband and told him we were on our way to the hospital.
Reichen cried.
I checked us in to the emergency room.
Reichen cried.
I tried to distract him with his baby brother.
Reichen cried.
The nurse tried to take his temperature.
Reichen cried.
I was so proud of myself that I was handling this crazy situation so well. Here I am sitting on the hospital floor by myself with my injured two year old and his one year old brother not FREAKING OUT! I didn’t freak out when I had to wait 3 hours for Reichento be treated. I didn’t freak out when the doctor wiggled Reichen’s wound. I didn’t freak out when the doctor had to wrap Reichen in a straight jacket. I didn’t freak out when the doctor had to give him stitches. I didn’t freak out when Reichen freaked out.
Four days later, Reichen is healing just fine. He thinks his stitches are cool. He talks about all the fun that happened at the hospital including when the nurse gave him two stickers. I think I am more scarred emotionally than his lip will ever be physically.
Even though it was tough on the two of us, I just want to thank my little boy for helping me learn something about myself. Calm or crazy? The answer is calm.
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