We had a major FIRST this weekend. We spent Friday evening at our local Emergency Room getting WonderBug a nice set of SIX stitches. Not a fun time.
We were at our neighbor’s house and the boys were running (per usual). I heard a boom, then a cry. As I rushed to him, I saw the blood. When he pulled his hand away, I looked at my friend and said, “That’s going to need stitches.”
As I’m trying to calm him down, my friend stepped into action. She was amazing. She called my husband, tried to calm down Miss E. (who was just as hysterical as her brother) and then she called my mom. She put on Phineas and Ferb while we waited so Bug would be distracted.
My mom and sister were there within minutes. Mom took the baby. Auntie KK and I grabbed a lovey, got Bug in the car and were ready to head to the ER. Daddy arrived just in time; hopped in the car with us and we were off.
A new ER had opened only months before just a mere 5 miles from us, which was awesome. We were seen immediately. The nurse put on SpongeBog and brought us a Super Hero to color, and Bug was content while we waited for the lidocaine to kick in.
After an unfortunate wait due to shift change, a doctor finally came in to stitch him up. It was the worst 15 minutes of my life. Because of the location of the laceration, he had to be held down with a papoose board. He screamed bloody murder the entire time. He kept yelling “I want to go home!” I wanted desperately to push the doctor out of the way, cradle him in my arms, and sprint out of that hospital room. But I knew he needed the stitches. So we just held his hands, kept reassuring him we were right there and prayed it would be over soon.
Six stitches. As traumatized as he was, he recovered nicely once the nurse gave him a popsicle. Hubs and I took much longer; in fact, I’m not sure either one of us has fully recovered.
I absolutely NEVER want to do that again. My heart goes out to all those parents who have children in the hospital with a major injury or illness. This paled in comparison to what could be and I pray that we don’t ever have to repeat this.
I can’t get the image of him screaming out of my head, however the picture below helps. He said “Mama, take a picture of my big BOO BOO!” and I happily obliged. That’s my silly boy.