Clear the mind
Lessons, cont.
The images I can't seem to get out of my head from the weekend: my neice, barely five years old, was sleeping over Saturday night. She and my 6 year old son are very rowdy together. It's not uncommon to hear things go bump in the night when they're together. But a mother's instinct knows when something's gone wrong...and I did. I heard a bump and a cry in my son's bedroom Saturday night, shortly after 10pm and I couldn't run to the room fast enough. As I got to the room, I saw my neice standing there crying and holding her head with blood streaming down her face. I scooped her up and ran to the kitchen (near the phone and more light) and immediately saw that the phone is what I needed. Her head had about a 3-4 inch long cut and was bleeding pretty damn good. I knew she'd need stitches. I tried calling her dad but got no answer. I yelled for hubby to get in the car, we were going to the ER. I ordered my oldest daughter to stay home with the two boys while we were gone. I got my neice in the car with a towel on her head and waited for hubby. He fell apart. Over the next 2-3 hours, we managed to get her head stitched up and get very acquainted with the ER trauma room. My neice did not cry during the procedure, but talked nonstop instead. It was kind of funny, how she talked so much that the doctor hardly got a word in. Meanwhile, my hubby managed to freak my dad out by demanding that he go find my brother. Hubby didn't want the "responsibility" of the ER thing, he wanted my brother there taking care of it. Well duh, we're babysitting, we're her guardian. I already had it handled by then. Once we got home, I had to sit up with my neice until 3:30 am until she fell asleep (she cried for her dad, cried that her head hurt and then finally fell asleep). Guilt ate at my conscience even in my sleep. How could I have let that happen to her? I woke the minute she did the next day and walked over her like a mother hen all day. I dared not let anything get near her stitches and damage her head more. My brother was "on his way" for 3 hours and finally showed up around 2pm, which seemed like 6pm. I spent the rest of the day trying to forget what I had gone through, but I couldn't. The 4" gap in her small little head and the blood all over my son's floor was a constant image I couldn't erase. The guilt ate away at me until I got out of bed last night and blogged about the ocean. Trying one last time to think of something else. Today at work, I called my brother to check on my neice and after he said she was fine, I had a good cry and wondered if he'd ever let her come back over here again.