Re: Hmmm...
anonymous
September 21 2005, 14:11:06 UTC
What happened to you? Silly man...you became a father, that's what happened. It's scary, isn't it? Did you ever dream that you'd love another human being so much that you'd feel their pain more deeply than they would - even more deeply than your own? Obviously not. No one ever does. Not until it happens.
I remember when my own son tried to play Superman off the front porch - literally. He spread his little arms and jumped, thinking he would fly. I saw what he was about to do, and ran like hell, but I got there just half a second too late to catch him. The deep gash in his head required about fifteen stitches, I think. He struggled so much against the stitching of the wound that the doctor strapped him to a papoose board, to hold him still. That made him scream harder, louder, longer...and fight with all his might to get loose. The poor guy put so much energy into screaming and trying to escape, he literally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Up until the moment his eyes closed, I was beside myself. The terror in my little boy's eyes, the way they pleaded with me to not stand there and let this happen to him, to rescue him as a mother should - it tore me to pieces. He couldn't understand why this was happening to him, and I was powerless to help him not be afraid. Two year olds just cannot comprehend those kinds of concepts, any more than they can comprehend the concept of a haircut being a harmless thing.
When my boy was five, he climbed a tree he wasn't supposed to be climbing. He fell, and landed on a stick...which gouged him less than an inch from his jugular. I cannot even describe the terror that went through me. It was eerie, too. He was completely calm, after the initial crying jag, as he was being sped to the hopsital, and while we waited for the doctor in the E.R. They flushed out the wound, and decided that it was *just* shallow enough to only need glue to put him back together.
Most recently was the last day of school, this past May. A bike wreck, caused by a malfunctioning of said bike when it hit the ground after ramping. The brake lever had to literally be pulled out of his thigh. I think that's enough description of that one.
In every single case, and in many cases much less severe, I was much, much more traumatized than he was. He freaked over the stitches in his head at age two, but when he woke up it was like he'd forgotten anything had happened at all. In every single case, he was playing and laughing before ever leaving the hospital. I would be shaken, ill, and dazed until the next day.
Have you become one of those overprotective parents? Maybe, just a tad, but not overly so. It's a normal reaction. It's inexperience and fear - in time, you will learn to inspect a wound and have a clinical eye as to depth and whether it needs stitches or merely cleaning and some TLC. Even then, having a higher authority on the situation take a look is never a bad thing. And besides, who are we to assume we know whether they need more than we could give them at home, when something like that happens? We haven't studied medicine for years. Even with no stitches, they may need antibiotics to prevent infection or a tetnus shot.
We take our roles seriously as the guardians and protectors of our children. With that role comes a lot of heartache, worry, fear, helplessness and guilt. Just know that you're doing your job, and doing it well. William will survive it just fine. And so will you.
Re: Hmmm...lendondainSeptember 22 2005, 07:58:25 UTC
Oh my God, Gypsy! If that's what I have to look forward to, you just scared the crap out of me.
Right now I'm operating under the assumption that this was the last accident, and nothing like it will ever happen again. I don't know if I can handle seeing him hurt again. I've never felt so helpless. As Renee was holding him and he was vomiting up blood, he looked so small and fragile. He was hurting, and I couldn't help him. I realized that if the accident had been worse, he could have died and there would have been nothing I could do to stop it.
Before this accident, he felt like such a permanent fixture in our lives. Now.. I can't help but think that mere chance or accident could take him away from us forever in the blink of an eye.
Scared? Helpless?
anonymous
September 22 2005, 13:06:10 UTC
Now for some more perspective:
Did you have accidents when you were a child? Did you bleed? Ever knock a tooth loose? Need stitches? Sprain an ankle? Break a bone? Scrape yourself up over a section of skin larger than a hand? Get a black eye?
Did you have fun?
Did you survive? Are you alive, well, healthy and all grown up?
Even more perspective: My daughter has never hurt herself more than pulling a muscle and breaking two toes. However, if someone four blocks over gets sick, she gets sick. My son is forever bumped and bruised, with the occasional blood and oh my god!, but he has been sick maybe six times in eleven years, and yes, I'm counting since birth.
Boys play hard, harder than girls. You know this to be a fact. They are more fearless than girls, you know this too. They are forever testing their strength, their stamina, and their imaginations. Sometimes their little experiments with what they think they can do make them fall down and go boom.
That is why we hover, we protect, and we worry. We try to catch them before they fall, then scoop them up and put band-aids on the owie if they're too quick for us.
Would you really want me to lie to you? I can do that, if you prefer. I can spoonfeed you tripe about how this was a one-time thing, and you'll never see the blood of your child again, forever and ever amen.
Thing is though, the sooner you wrap your mind around the idea that he is a BOY, and he is going to act fearless like a BOY, which means he is going to get hurt like a BOY, the sooner your mind can accept it. It is that acceptance of the facts of life which makes it easier to deal with it all. The only thing denial is going to do is make every single time like the very first time he gets hurt, all over again. And again.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to horrify you. Boys being scary creatures to raise is not my rule - I didn't make it up, I was only reporting it.
I remember when my own son tried to play Superman off the front porch - literally. He spread his little arms and jumped, thinking he would fly. I saw what he was about to do, and ran like hell, but I got there just half a second too late to catch him. The deep gash in his head required about fifteen stitches, I think. He struggled so much against the stitching of the wound that the doctor strapped him to a papoose board, to hold him still. That made him scream harder, louder, longer...and fight with all his might to get loose. The poor guy put so much energy into screaming and trying to escape, he literally passed out from sheer exhaustion. Up until the moment his eyes closed, I was beside myself. The terror in my little boy's eyes, the way they pleaded with me to not stand there and let this happen to him, to rescue him as a mother should - it tore me to pieces. He couldn't understand why this was happening to him, and I was powerless to help him not be afraid. Two year olds just cannot comprehend those kinds of concepts, any more than they can comprehend the concept of a haircut being a harmless thing.
When my boy was five, he climbed a tree he wasn't supposed to be climbing. He fell, and landed on a stick...which gouged him less than an inch from his jugular. I cannot even describe the terror that went through me. It was eerie, too. He was completely calm, after the initial crying jag, as he was being sped to the hopsital, and while we waited for the doctor in the E.R. They flushed out the wound, and decided that it was *just* shallow enough to only need glue to put him back together.
Most recently was the last day of school, this past May. A bike wreck, caused by a malfunctioning of said bike when it hit the ground after ramping. The brake lever had to literally be pulled out of his thigh. I think that's enough description of that one.
In every single case, and in many cases much less severe, I was much, much more traumatized than he was. He freaked over the stitches in his head at age two, but when he woke up it was like he'd forgotten anything had happened at all. In every single case, he was playing and laughing before ever leaving the hospital. I would be shaken, ill, and dazed until the next day.
Have you become one of those overprotective parents? Maybe, just a tad, but not overly so. It's a normal reaction. It's inexperience and fear - in time, you will learn to inspect a wound and have a clinical eye as to depth and whether it needs stitches or merely cleaning and some TLC. Even then, having a higher authority on the situation take a look is never a bad thing. And besides, who are we to assume we know whether they need more than we could give them at home, when something like that happens? We haven't studied medicine for years. Even with no stitches, they may need antibiotics to prevent infection or a tetnus shot.
We take our roles seriously as the guardians and protectors of our children. With that role comes a lot of heartache, worry, fear, helplessness and guilt. Just know that you're doing your job, and doing it well. William will survive it just fine. And so will you.
Love,
Gypsy
Reply
Right now I'm operating under the assumption that this was the last accident, and nothing like it will ever happen again. I don't know if I can handle seeing him hurt again. I've never felt so helpless. As Renee was holding him and he was vomiting up blood, he looked so small and fragile. He was hurting, and I couldn't help him. I realized that if the accident had been worse, he could have died and there would have been nothing I could do to stop it.
Before this accident, he felt like such a permanent fixture in our lives. Now.. I can't help but think that mere chance or accident could take him away from us forever in the blink of an eye.
It's a small, helpless feeling that I don't like.
Reply
Did you have accidents when you were a child?
Did you bleed?
Ever knock a tooth loose?
Need stitches?
Sprain an ankle?
Break a bone?
Scrape yourself up over a section of skin larger than a hand?
Get a black eye?
Did you have fun?
Did you survive? Are you alive, well, healthy and all grown up?
Even more perspective:
My daughter has never hurt herself more than pulling a muscle and breaking two toes. However, if someone four blocks over gets sick, she gets sick. My son is forever bumped and bruised, with the occasional blood and oh my god!, but he has been sick maybe six times in eleven years, and yes, I'm counting since birth.
Boys play hard, harder than girls. You know this to be a fact. They are more fearless than girls, you know this too. They are forever testing their strength, their stamina, and their imaginations. Sometimes their little experiments with what they think they can do make them fall down and go boom.
That is why we hover, we protect, and we worry. We try to catch them before they fall, then scoop them up and put band-aids on the owie if they're too quick for us.
Would you really want me to lie to you? I can do that, if you prefer. I can spoonfeed you tripe about how this was a one-time thing, and you'll never see the blood of your child again, forever and ever amen.
Thing is though, the sooner you wrap your mind around the idea that he is a BOY, and he is going to act fearless like a BOY, which means he is going to get hurt like a BOY, the sooner your mind can accept it. It is that acceptance of the facts of life which makes it easier to deal with it all. The only thing denial is going to do is make every single time like the very first time he gets hurt, all over again. And again.
I'm sorry. I didn't mean to horrify you. Boys being scary creatures to raise is not my rule - I didn't make it up, I was only reporting it.
Sorry. :(
Gypsy
Reply
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