Saturday, March 1, 2014

Erin's First Stitches

December 7, 2013
Ugh. Talk about bad mom moments... So, Paul picked up a pair of scissors I had left lying around and almost cut Erin's finger off. There was so much blood. I get sort of sick just thinking about it. I know it's not as bad as it seems but it's still pretty bad. 
I never leave scissors out. I'm always moving knives and sharp things Chris leaves lying around so that the kids can't reach them and cut themselves. But I had been the one to leave the scissors out. Snowflake was using the balloons to go back to Santa's and come back home  and they needed to be strung up to hang properly. I had cut some ribbon with the scissors and Chris had to have it explained to him over and over what we were doing. And I guess I just forgot about them. I mean, honestly, I walk around the kitchen all the time double checking that anything remotely sharp is put away so they can't reach them. 
I feel horrible. I wasn't paying attention to them and didn't see what he was doing. It was all so aweful. 
I remember the screams and running to her. There was so much blood. I kept asking her to hold it high. I took her into my bathroom and ran water over it but it wouldn't stop bleeding so I couldn't tell how big it really was. It was a deep cut. I grabbed some gauze and band aids and wrapped it up. But while I had been looking for the right stuff in the drawers she smeared her hand on the floor and kept rubbing it. It was aweful. I wanted to disinfect the wound because of that but knew it wouldn't be smart for me to try. So I wrapped it and I thought it would bleed right through but it didn't.  I kept calling Chris while I got their shoes and jackets on. He finally replied when I was getting myself ready in a hurry. 
I tried to stay calm after the initial shock but I know I didn't do good. I did alright but not great. The roads were so icy and there was all that snow (4 inches, i Think they said). I couldn't go that fast, but I tried. Erin wanted her daddy and he met us at urgent care. They hadn't opened yet so we took the icy roads further and went to the hospital. Erin had kicked off her shoes. Chris had gotten her to keep her hand up by this time. I knew he wanted to take the bandage off and see how bad it really was. I don't think he believed that it was as bad as it was. But he left it on and just stayed calm. He carried her, while she cried hysterically, into the hospital ER while I parked the car with Paul. He was just proud he hadn't kicked his shoes off like ray-ray. I found a couple of random small toys and took them in with us as we walked carefully to the doors. We were the only ones there luckily and they took her right in as Paul and I got there so we all walked back with her. She had to have stitches. Three, I think. So it was a lot worse than I had originally thought (well not originally because like I said I originally thought he had chopped her finger off, but it was worse than I had come to believe).  
They weighed her and took her to a room where they cleaned and examined it and took notes on what happened. They had asked Chris and I would have loved that he tell it but he hasn't been there so I had to retell it all as best I could. I felt so bad. If only I'd have paid attention or put the damn scissors away... I hate myself for it.
 They cleaned it and looked at it and decided on the stitches (instead of glue because her age and its location lent itself to being used more and glue would not work in that situation).  During the stitches Chris stayed up by her head while a nurse was on her other side holding her arm and I held her legs down. They had been pretty smart and wrapped her up tight in a blanket so her other arm wouldn't thrash about on them. 
Paul did good. At first he wanted to comfort her too, then he went off and played with his toys while the stitches were applied. 
She kept yelling that she didn't like it. I felt so bad.  I still feel bad. That's why I'm up tonight writing about it. It happened at around 8 this morning and I haven't been able to shake myself from this. I want to cry so badly. I can't imagine how she feels. What if he cut a nerve?  What if she can't feel with that finger or use it?  The tip had been clipped off too (I hadn't noticed that until after they were cleaning after the stitches). What if that never grows back?  What if it doesn't heal properly?  She's only three. She's only three and this happened. Why did I let this happen?  I hate myself for this and it will take a long time to forgive myself. 

But anyway... Three stitches for my three year old. And she will have them for about seven days as long as everything heals ok. Just pray that no permanent damage happened and that everything heals wonderfully and that she is ok and that Paul is ok too. And that I am ok, too. 

A part of me feels bad for feeling so rotten on myself when it was just stitches. She didn't loose a finger and everyone is alive and most are in good spirits. It's just hard not for me to blame myself. I don't really know how not to right now. And I can't stop worrying at this point. I was doing so well at not being in a funk this season and then satan swoops in. (I really need you, Lord.) I could really use the prayers for strength for myself and healing for Erin. Thank you. Night.