Two and a half years ago, hubs and I were blessed with the birth of our amazing son, "Hambone" (his bloggy name because he's such a comic). Hambone was my miracle as I have PCOD and I was told I'd never have children. Anyway, bla, bla, bla...I LOVE him deeply.
Today, I got a phone call from the daycare he attends, which by the way doesn't mean I'm a bad mother because he's in daycare (just needed to say that), that he had fallen from the playground slide and gashed his chin open. Lord knows that those scary words are not easy for any mother to hear. Anyway, I calmly packed up my stuff, grabbed my mother (who I work with) and drove as fast as I could to get him. So I'm thinking that when I walk in his chin is going to be dangling off, he'll have a concussion and more than likely a broken arm. Have I mentioned I have an overactive imagination and a slight flare for the dramatic (my inner Scarlett O'Hara)? Praise the Lord, the poor little guy just had a small gash under his chin. It's wasn't bad, but it was rather deep, so we took him to the ER. About an hour, an "I don't want this" armband moment and a little bit of medical glue...we were all calmer and happier. The doctor said that had the gash been a little further up his chin and on the front, Hambone would have needed a stitch or two, but the glue would work fine. Thank God it was nothing more than that.
Last year, about this time, "Loretta", a long time friend of mine, had a daycare incident with her son but he broke his little leg, needed lot of medical attention and had a lower body cast for the better part of several months. I admired her so much, and still do, for the strength she had to persevere through that to be stronger for her baby. I think it's something all mothers do; love so deeply that nothing else really matters.
So, a sigh of relief today for this momma, but God help me as I have a feeling this is only the beginning for me and my little boy.