Sunday morning I awoke early and while lying awake the silence was broken by the sound of a small little cough from the next room. Baby girl had awoken and it seemed the cold that was burgeoning the night before had not broken but only grew worse.
I slowly ambled next door to her room, wrapping my robe about me, and found her smiling at her crib rail, trying patiently to hold back the coughing fits. As I grew closer to her I realized that the clear stuffy nose I thought was due primarily to the three molars emerging, was instead green snot oozing from her nose. Ugh. Summer cold at hand.
And my next thought was coffee. I was going to need coffee to get through this day. And we headed downstairs to the coffeemaker when I realized I never bought coffee filters the day before. Plus coffee making just seemed like too much work and so we waited, playing quietly for 8am to come around so we could head to Target for cold supplies and the coffee that would start my day.
Not wanting to wait longer we started out earlier, somehow forgetting the time the store opens, and arrived at 7:45 to closed doors. To Walgreens we’ll go and grab coffee next door and so we drove and ugh. The door read 8am. Sunday morning doesn’t bring early customers I suppose. And so we walked next door and secured what seemed to be the only thing going for me. The coffee that would help get me through. And it was good.
As 8am rolled around we found our way to the sickness aisle and found our needed supplies; more Vicks for her heels, saline spray, cold tablets, boogie wipes, and apple juice. Armed with enough germ fighting supplies I left feeling confident this day would get better. And for awhile it did.
But then I remembered that our small group was supposed to be meeting at our house later that afternoon. Surely so many with tiny ones wouldn’t want to be in the sick house despite quarantining baby girl off to the lower level. Thankfully a friend offered up their house and I would still bring the food I was planning on serving.
So as the day passed we watched cartoons, played on the floor, read books, drank apple juice, napped, and somehow I still managed to make the meal for our small group. After the last nap of the day the hours dwindled and Nana and Papa arrived for baby watching.
We welcomed them in and noting that I had some time to spare I sat down to chat with them and then it happened. Baby girl came running towards me, tripped on the carpet, and I watched, unable to stop her, as she slammed her chin into the chair I was sitting in. Not usually one to cry after something like that I knew as the sobs came that something wasn’t quite right. I quickly picked her up and oh my, the blood.
Pouring out of her mouth it came, as I ran with her to the kitchen and attempted to the best of my ability to get it to stop. Her shirt looked like a crime scene, stained red and her poor little mouth had seen better days. Two puncture wounds to her bottom lip and a 3/4 inch slice under her lip. Poor baby had a puffy lip and a stuffy nose. This day wasn’t necessarily getting better.
And after getting the gushing to stop we assessed. All three of us trying to discern how bad the damage was. And on the phone I got, calling our after hours care at our clinic. It was then that I realized my inability to understand math was really going to hinder our ability to communicate. The doctor on call returned my phone call and asked how bad things were. I said she had a couple of lacerations on her lip around 2cm. What I meant was 2mm but apparently in all the excitement my brain ceased to function despite all the coffee I had made sure to consume.
And it seemed that once I could fully communicate the damage across phone lines, the final decision was to head to the ER in fear that the cut under her lip would need some attention. Unfortunately our food never made it to small group and neither did I, but that was far less of an issue. I realized then how thankful and blessed I was to have my in-laws along for the adventure our Sunday afternoon turned into. It was so nice to have some company. And as I sat down in the waiting room my mind discerned that this was probably not going to be our last time here. Our baby girl is incredibly curious and adventurous. I might as well make peace with that now. At least I had the forethought at the beginning of summer to purchase a first aid kit for the car which came in handy when the doctor told us to apply gauze to her lips. Well chalk that up as a win for me. Gauze I can do.
No stitches were needed and by the time we left the ER an hour later it seemed our daughter thought the whole ordeal was no big deal. A big fat lip was not going to stop her from eating, drinking out of her straw cup, or sucking on her pacifier. I’m often astounded at her pain tolerance. She definitely didn’t get that from me.
And on arrival home we both breathed in a big sigh of relief as daddy walked through the door. And to think we had dinner, ready and waiting for us. Somehow the little things were taken care of. We’d come full circle yesterday…a good start with an even better end and everything we could possibly imagine in between.
And over our late dinner, my heart reminded me that it seems when we’re all together again everything is right in our little world.