Parenting is Not for the Faint of Heart

There is nothing worse than seeing your child’s blood on the outside of their body.  If there is one truth about blood, it’s that it belongs on the inside.  But, sometimes thing happen that destroy that truth.

This weekend, while camping, it was a rock that destroyed that truth.  A small rock in the middle of a path, directly in front of another rock that stuck out of the ground just far enough to trip my oldest daughter.

All the kids were running laps on a path that was alongside our campsite.  They ran and ran and ran.  Then one of them fell and they all stopped.  I don’t remember getting to Alma, but I do remember the blood.  It was already pouring down her sobbing face.  I scooped her up, said, “JESSE.” and don’t remember getting down to our picnic table.

I do remember exactly what went through my head:

• Don’t overreact.
• Where is a hospital?
• Head wounds bleed a lot.  It’s not necessarily a big deal.
• Don’t overreact.
• Head wounds bleed a lot.  It’s not necessarily a big deal.
• Head wounds bleed a lot.  It’s not necessarily a big deal.
• Head wounds bleed a lot.  It’s not necessarily a big deal.
• Head wounds bleed a lot.  It’s not necessarily a big deal.
• Don’t overreact.

Everyone rushed to help.  Devon got the ice.  Heather got the band-aids and wipes.  Jesse, somehow, miraculously had a pocket full of paper towels.  Antonio and Drew got the lollipop.  Harriet got Sarah Bear.

Thankfully the bleeding stopped pretty quickly, and we were able to see that it was more of a puncture wound than a cut.  It clearly didn’t need stitches, though, in my opinion, it looked crazy how deep the wound went.

I also remember exactly the things that Alma said as I held her in my arms, bleeding:

• We never should have come camping!
• I don’t want a lollipop!
• My sister is the best sister in the whole world.
• I want to go see where I fell.

The rest of the evening was spent sitting in laps and getting extra cuddles.  I watched Alma carefully for signs of concussion, even though I had no idea what the signs of concussion were.  I only cried once, and not where Alma could see me.

We stayed two more nights and Alma bounced right back.  The bump has gone down and the cut is healing nicely.  The only wound that remains is the piece of my heart that broke along with the skin on Alma’s forehead.  But that’s the thing about parenting, and that certainly won’t be the last bit of my heart that will feel my daughters’ pain.