KDUNK

Dear Lili,

I hate to report – but the past few weeks have been mostly about bumps, blood and bruises. Sigh. Don’t get me wrong. I knew that being a parent would require crossing the various stepping stones of kid injuries. I just wasn’t prepared for how slippery the rocks would get.

Your Dad and I had our first major scare with you several weeks ago. I think I only am able to write about it now because it felt so traumatic at the time. I think secretly your Dad and I thought people would also think we were bad parents! When in truth this right of passage seems to be something all parents go through.

We were strolling around Brooklyn on our way home from a lovely day out and about. We stopped in to get some Mexican take out. You and Dad were outside about to get a diaper change from your stroller and when I emerged through the door I heard THUMP – the sound that can only be compared to the sound of a cantaloupe falling on the sidewalk. The ‘cantaloupe’ sound was your head – your little soft baby skull hitting the sidewalk – falling from your stroller. Being the wiggle worm that you are you literally slipped out of the straps when being attempted to get a diaper change and landed face down and rolled over on your back on the hard cement. I thought…I was going…to die.

I picked you up immediately and you were crying so so so hard – the kind where you are silent and purple in the face – eyes darting. You clung your little body to me. I (wrongly) screamed at your father, ‘How did this HAPPEN?!!!!” Two cops standing a few feet away saw your fall and ran over. One cop pulled out his cell phone to scroll through photos of his own kids to distract and calm you (or me?) while the other cop called an ambulence. I heard him on the phone,

“Got a baby here. Nine months. Fell about a foot and a half from stroller and landed on cement. We need an ambulance here right away to bring her to the hospital for tests”

If I ever get cast in a role for a movie playing a mother in distress after their child has been injured I will be saying, “Oh my god oh my god oh my god you’re ok oh my god oh my god shhh shhh it’s ok honey it’s ok…shhh shhh oh my GOD oh my GOD” – my ramble could only be compared to when I was in labor. Animalistic. Odd, uncontrolled volumes. Trying to remain calm but scared.

The ambulance came. I jumped inside still clinging you to my chest. Your poor father waited outside with the stroller and the Mexican take out. The cops told him to meet us at the hospital which lucky for us was about three blocks away. The EMT team checked you out on the ride over and said the good signs were you started to cry right away when it happened and that there was no ‘blood in your ears’ – ok dying. Please don’t talk about blood in my child’s ears. After seeing you start to calm down and act more like yourself playing with the EMT’s hand I let the tears fall and felt like an idiot blubbering my way to the hospital as he calmed me saying Dad and I were good parents and not to worry – this happens to the best of us.

When we arrived at the hospital the best possible team took care of you. Poor Dad couldn’t find us for a while and when he arrived was a nervous wreck. We waited as doctors and nurses came to observe you and ask us questions. Between their visits with you we would hear them working with another family behind the curtain adjacent to ours. It was a family gathered as a team of doctors attempted to suck a hair bead out of a small boy’s nose as he screamed bloody murder, ‘MAMA MAMA MAMA’.  The curtain after that housed another family dealing with a small girl with a broken arm after fighting with her brother over a video game control. Dear God. Is this only the beginning we thought to ourselves?

After an hour or two of observation they declared you good as new despite the face scratches and soon to be lumps and bruises. We left the hospital with a packet titled in bold type ‘HEAD INJURIES AND YOUR CHILD’. We were told to observe you throughout the night looking for vital signs every few hours by tickling your feet, etc. Needless to say it was the longest night of our lives.

Since that day Lili you’ve had two bloody lips, scratches here and there and yesterday evening a near miss injury on your eye falling face first towards the sharp corner of the bookshelf where the foam pad had just fallen off leaving you with a lump and bruise so so so dangerously close to your lower eyelid. Too close for comfort if you ask me. Sigh. The insane thing is I WAS HOLDING ON TO YOU. You are just at this crazy age where you are still finding your balance and what seems to be a normal attempt to do something – reach for a book, etc. – can result in a spaz wipe out that sometimes none of us are prepared for.

I am a nervous mother not a calm one. But hang tight little baby. You do your best and I’ll do mine. We’ve got a looooooong way to go.

xo