Motherhood in Reverse

I haven’t had the most active and busy weekend, although my annual dragon boat festival races did take place.  My team did pretty well in the races and our fundraising efforts paid off nicely and we were able to make a fairly good overall donation to children’s hospital/cancer care.

We ran three races the second of which was by far our best race.  It was 3 seconds faster than our first run which is a huge difference in this type of sport.  Both race days were fairly early in the morning and so all was said and done around noon for both Saturday and Sunday.  

It being the only thing to really do it did leave a lot of free time afterward and even though our families activity level was very low key it was still a rather tiring weekend.   I’m sure it was even less exciting for my husband and both girls as they only attended the final race on Sunday seeing as it has been so difficult to get our oldest daughter around.

On Friday I told how she injured herself at soccer and it’s why we’ve had to take it easy.  It’s completely understandable of course she can’t help but have a difficult time. Crutches aren’t the easiest thing to adjust to, even having used them several times before, and a broken hip is going to be painful and hard to tolerate no matter how good the drugs you’re taking are.

And yes it is a broken hip although not an odd type of fracture for her age and it should heal fully in about 6 weeks.

It has been an odd change for us as parents though as her ever growing independence as she’s gotten older has disappeared.  She has needed help with things in the past few days she hasn’t needed help with since she became an independent and stubborn toddler. 

She can’t put on her own socks, carry her own meals to the table, pick things up of the floor or even bathe without help.  It’s as if the stage of motherhood/childhood we were in has gone into reverse and we are now back to some point around her toddler years.  The only difference is she is much better at communicating her needs than she was at 2.   

Ok maybe it’s different in other ways too but it really does evoke memories of days gone by. I’ve just found it interesting how when she gets hurt it seems to take me back to the days when she was small.  She still needs us without the injury certainly and I don’t mother less regularly it’s just the needs aren’t quite as tangible as putting on socks.  Or at least not as easily expressed.  

Helpless

Last year during soccer playoffs my daughter was injured on the field and I had lamented on how it is the worst moment for any sports parent.  Well that injury was a broken wrist and severe enough but I discovered last night that I was wrong.  There is a much worse sporting moment as a parent.

Last night about ten minutes into the second half she dropped to the ground.  I didn’t see what had happened but I was called onto the field moments later.  I got a few steps toward her before I heard how she was crying and then I RAN. It quickly became clear she would not be walking off the field and even more alarmingly that she wasn’t able to be carried off.

Since it seemed we couldn’t move her without causing her a great deal of pain or possibly injuring her further I called 911.  As soon as the 911 operator answered I discovered that I was not as calm as I was trying to appear to be and quickly handed off the phone to another parent so I could focus where every instinct was telling me to focus; on her.

The time between calling emergency services and the wait until they arrived were by far the worst moments I’ve ever experienced.  She was shivering uncontrollably, hyperventilating, in terrible pain and absolutely terrified.  All I could do was stroke her hair and try to get her to breathe calmly and tell her that I wasn’t going anywhere. She was looking to me for help and I was completely helpless to do so. 

When we were leaving with the ambulance I finally looked up from her and back at the field.  It wasn’t until then that I saw, even though the game had by then been called, that no one had left. Many of the girls on her team were crying and although I certainly felt bad for all the girls I also felt very grateful for their and their parents’ silent support in those awful moments.

I was grateful for those who had lent blankets and helped me to get our things together and get the car home so that I could go with her in the ambulance and have my husband still able to meet us at the hospital.  I honestly have no recollection of who I asked to do what. I only know that those I asked for help did so without hesitation.  

She did not as had been suspected dislocate her hip but did tear ligaments and is going to have a long recovery.  She is still in terrible pain today and will need a lot more care than usual as she hobbles her way around on crutches for an undetermined amount of time.  Only time will tell how long and difficult her recovery will be but hopefully she doesn’t suffer any long term effects.

Being helpless to help her was by far a worse experience to the broken wrist of last year.  I hope to never again face an experience like this one has been.

Soccers End

Last night was the last soccer game of the outdoor spring/summer season for E. I was watching from the sidelines as E pushed the ball up again and was cheering her on when in a rush for the ball she hit the ground hard amongst a group of girls. I couldn’t quite see what happened but rather than get up and rejoin the play she stayed down.

She doesn’t go down easy this girl of mine.  I’ve seen her take spectacular stumbles and been hit hard on many occasions and she rebounds up again in a flash already on the run. She can be tough as nails but she also plays hard and those that play the hardest are the most likely to get injured.   

It’s the worst sports moment in the life of any parent, watching from the sidelines as all the players take a knee and every ones focus goes to one hurt child, your hurt child.  She is so close yet so far, completely out of reach, you have to fight every instinct not to run out on the field and leave it to the bench mom. 

I watched as she was able to get up and walk to the sidelines.  From the far side of the field I could see tears streaming down her face and she was clutching her wrist with the other hand. My eyes went to the bench mom hoping desperately for a thumbs up indicating it wasn’t as bad as it looked and instead got a wave indicating I should come to the bench.

The field seems so much bigger when walking around it during a game to check on your injured kid. Walking around the field my mind went instantly to where the best place I should take her on a Sunday at half past four.  I had already figured this was going to result in a very long night.

When I got to her she still had tears streaming down her face an ice pack on her wrist. Sitting beside her and taking her hand in mine you could instantly tell she had hurt it badly.  Already swollen to nearly twice its size she wasn’t able to move her wrist and it had a funny little lump to it.

Turns out she fell on her wrist badly and then was stepped on by one of the biggest players on the other team.  Before the end of the night you could clearly identify the cleat marks in her hand and wrist. 

I wish I could say we sat in the ER for nothing however a few hours later we left Children’s hospital her wrist broken and in a cast.  

Ouch

Typing is turning out to be a bit of a challenge today; I burnt my index finger yesterday with a hot glue gun.  Whoops.  Those who know me would not be surprised I burnt myself in the least, in fact they would be surprised that it’s not a worse injury.  I have had more injuries than the average person would over the course of several lifetimes.  I don’t think I have ever met someone who has unintentionally done more damage to themselves then I have. I’ve never been so badly injured that I’ve been incapacitated, completely awkward yes, but I always figure out how to get around.  I think it’s genetic my mother is almost as klutzy as I am as are my girls and I set the bar pretty high.

I don’t get hurt quite as often as I did when I was younger but I’m now beginning to realize long term effects to some of my injuries and curse my younger self for not slowing down and thinking.  Someday I’ll need a knee replacement, I’ll never breathe correctly and I’m sure my tailbone as well as several other breaks that are starting to ache will continue to get worse the older I get.  I’ve learnt my lesson to be more careful the hard way but I still find I end up with a trip to emergency at least once a year.  I can always find the humor in my own idiocy but I really hope I don’t get any new stories to tell.

One of my worst stories is why I now have a perpetually clogged nose. Want to know how? I fell out of bed, that’s right I fell out of bed and broke my nose. Now most people look at me as if I’m a complete idiot for that one, I swear I’m really not.  One morning rather than getting up to turn off the alarm clock I crawled to the end of my bed and reached across the gap between bed and dresser to smack the snooze button, I missed. As it turns out parts of me were still asleep so while one arm collapsed under me the other stuck on the dresser and I landed on my nose.  That apartment was carpeted but it was cement underneath and it was not forgiving in the least.

Sadly that story is not my most embarrassing one, that one I’ll keep to myself.  I’ve got many more everything from falling off a bucket (concussion), hitting myself with a hammer (broken wrist), kicking a wall (broken toes), falling off a railing (broken tailbone), hitting myself in the head with a car door (another concussion), cutting towards myself (stitches, obviously), falling down stairs (broken foot), I could go on but I think you get the point.

My burnt finger and I are going to go try and get through the rest of today safely.  I have to stop typing before I pop the blister on my finger I keep forgetting to type without it.