A Day of Firsts

As I've been reminded, I'm rather behind in blogging. Sorry friends! Who would have thought that parenting two children under 26 months would be so time consuming...?

I want to back track to last Sunday, as it was a day of firsts that we won't soon forget.

The kiddos sampled their very first popsicle (we're assuming) on Sunday afternoon! Unfortunately, it was served to them by a nurse during their first visit to the Emergency Department.

We were finishing up lunch in our little windowed nook in the kitchen. Celia was sitting in her high chair, which has been loaned to us by some dear friends, and Bennett was in his booster on one of our metal-backed chairs. (Mistake #1) At this point, I don't even remember what we were eating. We were—and still are—deep in the process of transitioning to a family of four. Of course the kids have feelings of insecurity and get anxious at times—they've been through so much. Bennett was probably having one of those moments and since he cannot verbally express his frustrations he bit Derek. Reacting out of frustration himself, as he admitted, Derek swung Bennett's chair around to tell him "No" and "Stop." Unfortunately, it was a bit too fast with a chair that wasn't properly stable to begin with. Our poor, sweet and already scared baby fell backward in his booster with the chair to the floor.

I will never forget the "thud" of the chair hitting the floor... The sick feeling that immediately sprung in my stomach... The piercing silence for what seemed like an eternity followed by the loud wails
of our son... And the blood. My goodness, the blood. I knew that heads bleed very badly, sometimes making things look much worse than they are. But when it is coming from your own child, it is the largest source of fear.

We sprung to action. I gave Derek some paper towels, which were soaked in red within seconds. I then gave him two clean towels and Derek applied the pressure.

"We have to go to the hospital! Call your mom!" Derek yelled, clutching Bennett to himself.

Why did we call my mom? I'm not quite sure. But it was only our second day "on the job" with two kids at home and I'm glad we did.

Somehow we safely got Celia into her carseat, made sure we had our new insurance cards and we were off. Driving with hazard lights on, I prayed the cars in front of me would move faster. Every minute I glanced over at Bennett to make sure he was awake. I could tell as he was looking out the window that he followed several trees with his eyes. Good signs.

We arrived at the hospital where our parents met us with reassuring words. In a few short minutes, we were brought back to a room. Despite not yet being on our insurance (we changed that the first weekday we could!), the registration and care we received could not have been better.

Poor Bennett ended up with two staples in his head. Mama held it together as we waited for B to receive proper treatment, while Papa had some breakdowns both in the car and in our Emergency Department room. However, once the nurse put the final staple in and announced, "all done," I lost it. Tears welled up in my eyes and I let my emotions take over for about 60 seconds. My poor baby! What had we done?!

But, true to form, Bennett was so strong. Though he whimpered through the process, he did not cry and throw fits. He clung to his Papa like I've never seen. To reward his courage, he and his sister were presented with their first popsicles. Grape-flavored, of course.

Babushka snuck in to the room just as they were finishing up with Bennett to give her grandson a box of animal crackers. Gotta love grandparents.

As we were on our way home, our new family's dynamics truly came out. Derek drove home, and I swung around to take a picture, which I'm sure will make our kids chuckle sometime down the road. Let me translate what's going on:

Celia: "Waaaaaaahhhhh!"
Bennett: "Sister, seriously. I've just had two staples put in my head. Stop it."
Celia: "Wah-Waaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!"

Thank God Bennett is okay. We spent the rest of the afternoon cuddled up on our bed—all four of us.

(End note: I should also add that B's other grandparent went out and bought a new—and stable—high chair that very evening. We all feel much better and safer now.)