I'm sure there comes a point for all moms in which they see something painful or scary happen to their child and realize that this is a thing they are powerless to prevent. This happened to me on Saturday at the Renaissance Festival when Fee fell out of PK's arms, landing head first on top of some sharp rocks.
Before I go any further, I must say that Fee is a very active toddler. All the caretakers in the nursery at church describe her as "very sweet" and "very busy." Some have even remarked that she just doesn't stop. Indeed it was her active curiosity that led to the scary incident. She wanted to run around and explore, so she decided to take matters into her own hands by diving out of PK's arms. She has attempted such daredevil feats in the past, but this is the first time her dive actually "succeeded," thanks to the combination of a distracted daddy and a stronger toddler body.
As she fell a crowd (It was very crowded.) released a single collective *gasp*. This was followed by a moment of silence as I scrambled over to pick her up and noticed blood running down her forehead, all the way down to her eye. Thankfully, Fee was crying and remained fully conscious and alert throughout the ordeal. A nice fellow dressed like a monk directed us to the first aid station. Somewhere along the way, I handed Fee over to PK while grabbing the cloth wipes out of her diaper bag. PK put the wipes against her wound to help stop the bleeding.
By this point blood was covering the front of Fee's dress, PK's shirt, and my arm. The walk to the first aid station seemed to take forever, and I prayed for her the whole way there, not really knowing the extent of her injuries.
Finally we reached the first aid station, where the workers laid Fee on a cot and began cleaning her up. They sat me down with some water because by this point I had worked myself into a frenzy. Once the blood was cleaned up, we saw that its source was nothing more than a centimeter-sized scrape on her forehead. It was a shallow cut, and she wouldn't even need stitches. Basically heads just bleed a lot, and Fee's scrape only required cleaning and a simple band-aid.
After applying the band-aid, the workers let me stay in the first aid tent and nurse Fee. This helped calm us both down. At that point I was very thankful that Fee was still nursing because I'm not sure if anything else would have been more comforting for her.
On the way out I met another mother coming in to nurse her baby who looked to be about 4 months old. She was amazed that I was still nursing Fee and asked me if it was difficult for Fee to start eating solid foods. I explained how she developed more interest in solid foods as she got older and nutritionally didn't really need anything other than breast milk until she was six months old. I think this mother had received some incorrect information, not unsurprising considering that most mothers don't even nurse to 6 months.
I told her to stick with it and that eventually her baby will want to nurse less frequently. I also said that I was I was very happy to still be nursing to provide my daughter comfort after her injury. I enjoyed talking to this mother and wished we were able to chat longer. (By this point Fee was saying, "Home. Home.")
PK and I left the Renaissance Festival without seeing the joust or the the professional tournament. But in an odd way the day was not ruined. We left with a greater love and appreciation for our daughter, and we gained a better understanding that she is a special and fragile gift to us, given on loan from God. Sometimes it takes a scary moment to realize how much you love your child, and our scary moment brought us all a little bit closer.
About the pictures:
Top: A dramatic drawing by PK on Fee's doodle board depicting the scary fall and a frantic pregnant mommy. PK got Fee a special care package when we got home, including this magnetic doodle board, which she loves.
Bottom: Fee the day after the fall. Her head is scraped up, but she's still active and smiling.
