Staple, Stitches and Surgical Glue: My Life with 3 Boyz-Chapter 9

Anyone who knows my boys, knows how true my working book title rings true.  I did actually write the first chapter for the book, but Michael read it and informed me no one would want to read it.  (Thanks hun.)  Others have assured me they would.  What's a busy mom to do?  Maybe someday I'll get back to it, but for now, I'll keep some notes on a blog.  That should allow me a creative outlet, a chance to get somethings out in print, and maybe even entertain you in the meantime.

I guess that's kind of the foreword...  Here's what I really came to say.

Today I stopped by to pick up Sammi's 2 year pics.  I expected them to be adorable.  I expected them to make me smile.  I didn't expect them to bring tears to my eyes, but they did.  Why?  Because of his smile of course! 

Cheesy right?  Let me explain a little bit more.  It wasn't so much the smile, but the pearly little white teeth that I saw.  See, last week Sam and I had quite a tumble if you will.

The day started off normal enough.  Managed to get myself up and ready, got the three boys up and ready.  Well, mostly.  Sam didn't want to get dressed and since it was a Grandma day, I rolled with it.  We were following the leader down the kitchen to grab a quick bite to eat and head out for the day.  Ray had the lead, Rob brought up the rear and Sam and I were sandwiched in between.  Sam's not a fan of stairs so I loaded my arms up with him, his clothes, a blankie, and a book.  Just a few steps in, I lost my balance, but mid-flight recovered.  Or that's what I thought, but the next thing I knew, Sam and I were going down.  I remember thinking to myself, "Do I hang on to Sam or set him down?  Just hold tight and keep him safe."  So I tried.  I really, really tried.  My efforts were in vain.  While I managed to hold tight, I didn't keep him safe because we were suddenly in a heap at the bottom of the stairs and he was screaming.  Initially, I took the screaming as a good sign.  At least he was conscious. 

After praising Jesus for that, I noticed the blood.  Not just a little, but a lot.  It was all over me and all over Sam.  Have you ever been in that moment?  The one where you see the blood, but have no idea where or even who it's coming from?  Your hands tremble, your heart races but somehow you manage to breathe and tell yourself, "It'll be okay.  What do I do next?"

Well, I reached for the phone and called who else?  My mom!  "Mom, Sam and I fell down the stairs.  Can you come help me figure out where the blood is coming from?"  I tried to sound calm and collected, but I'm sure it didn't matter.  I'm sure my mom had that same trembling, heart racing, remind yourself to breathe feeling I had a moment prior.

Mom arrived within minutes and I had figured out the bleeding was coming from Sam's mouth and nose.  With her help, we were able to peek in his mouth enough to see his front left tooth was hanging lower than the others.  What?!  It was suppose to be a bloody lip, not something like this!  What do you even do?  ER?  Dentist?  I called the dentist.  They wanted to see him, but couldn't for an hour and a half.  Now what?

Disperse the kids.  Thankfully, my mom, Ray and I work/attend the same school so I sent him on his way with her.  Given the impact and the blood also coming from Sam's nose, I decided it was worth getting his head checked by a doctor.  I called my mother-in-law and asked her to meet me at the ER to collect Robby.  (THANK GOD FOR GRANDMAS!!!) 

I was so thankful when the ER doc thought Sam's head checked out okay and informed that I would most likely be more sore than he for the next day or two, but also doubtful.  He was still bleeding and crying on and off.

Next stop, dentist.  The dentist took one look in Sam's mouth and didn't have to say much for me to know it wasn't good.  An x-ray confirmed his suspicion that there was indeed a fractured tooth and oral surgery would be needed to extract the broken tooth.  He also warned that the next tooth over was loose and may also need to be removed.  My heart sank. 

My sweet baby boy didn't like stairs.  He wanted me to carry him; to keep him safe.  And look what I had done!  I had gone and fallen knocking out two of his teeth leaving him with a big ol gap in his smile for years to come!  Talk about Mommy Guilt!  Yes, I logically knew that it was an accident. Yes, I logically knew that they were just baby teeth.  Yes, I logically knew that it could have been a lot worse.  But I'm a Mom, and Mommy Guilt just happens okay?!

The dentist office made the referral and the oral surgeon could see us right away.  That, however, is a whole other post that I don't have the energy for at the moment.

Fast Forward to this afternoon:  Seeing Sam's lil pearly white teeth in his two year pic did make me tear up.  And I allowed myself one lil tear for each tooth lost, but not any more.  I am doing everything I can, including praying regularly, to praise God for His protection and guidance, because I know it could've been a whole lot worse.