Becoming A Boy {My Son's First Visit to the Emergency}

The day I was dreading came. Once my daughter came along, I began rehearsing the scenario in my mind.

My son was entering toddlerhood and with my clumsiness and his father's persistent 'pushing the limit' I knew, we were gonna end up in the emergency room. And of course it would be when I was home alone. So this day came, on Christmas Eve. My son was playing with me at the table and writing with a pen and paper - he fell off the chair and the pen sliced open his chin.

One look at flapping skin and I knew a) I would pass out if I had to further my contact with this wound and b) a bandaid won't do (especially considering TP and electric tape usually passes for a bandaid in our house).

So, cue my awesome friend to come be with baby girl while I headed to the hospital, just hoping our small town ER would be open and I wouldn't have to drive over an hour for care.
There is something even children pick up on about being in a hospital. Immediately my 22 month old son was clutching on to me avoid all interactions with the nurse trying to clean the wound. And you better believe he was on the doctor's 'here have a sticker' tricks. Stiches were ideal, suggested the nurse,  but I asked for the glue. Stitching this toddler would be like holding down a feral cat to force-feed it Buckleys cough syrup. 

Sometimes being a mom sucks. Especially when  being a mom includes physically pinning your child down while they are in pain and they don't understand what is going on. We swaddled this little man in a giant hospital blanket, I laid with him on the bed and we trapped him between the bed and the doctor as he tried to wriggle off the bed with all 24 pounds of his might. I kept telling him he was so brave and singing him songs - there was a point when I just had to look away and take some deep breaths to force those tears back in. 

At the end my son was covered in blood, tears, stickers, a giant cars bandaid and the reluctant owner of a teddy bear the nurse sweetly tucked into his arms. (Nurses really are some of the most amazing people in the world!).  I felt horrible for him and rummaged through my purse for his favourite toy car.  I found something better though - a sucker - felt like mom of the year when it put a smile on that tear stained red face of his. 

Reason #7 to always carry candy in your purse

All of this anguish over a simple cut chin, which is really a passage into boyhood - as marked on the face of nearly every man I know. And if I know them well enough, I know the story of how they got that scar and I just sigh and know I got off easy.

"Don't worry Mom, chicks dig scars"

I know what you might be thinking - quite the dramatic play by play! I know it is. I know there will be worse to come. But I wanted to write it out, to share it with you - my 'baby's' first boyhood injury from his Mom's eyes.  Because now come the years he begins those token adventures I saw my brother take and heard my husband re-live. He will be jumping off couches with plastic bags, taking dares to toboggan over homemade ski jumps, slipping off of docks while having chicken fights and all other dirt-covered, testosterone-driven, risk-taking activities that Mom's hate. The adventure breeds independence and teaches lessons a Mother can't. I know I can't always stop him, just try and make sure he's safe.  

Let's just hope the injuries happen when Dads home. 

Pin It