We are really fortunate that we have more great days than wtf days. I mean, even in our great days we have our moments, but I rarely have days that I consider it all a loss. They happen, but they’re not the norm.
The last week of November was a doozy for us though. I was all ready emotionally out of sorts. So I should have seen it coming.
After a loooong day I finally put the big kids to bed and crawled into bed with the babies, J still not home as he was working overtime. I’d just got us snuggled in as Miss H walked into the room.
I won’t lie, I was annoyed to see her there. I’d tucked her in 20 minutes ago and I was tired and this was just not the night to play 100 reasons to get out of bed.
“What?” I whispered, exasperated.
She whispered something to me that I swear to God sounded like “there was a mouse in my bed.”
I momentarily panicked. There aren’t mice here. Rats though, yes. If there was a freaking mouse in her bad she really meant there was a rat and Oh my god. I was not a good enough mother to deal with that. And then I started trying to figure out how a rat even got in our house. And do they have rabies? Oh shit.
Thankfully, or not, you choose, I heard her then say “there was something metal in my bed.”
“Metal,” I repeated. “Did you get hurt? Did it cut you?”
She shook her head, coming closer to me. “I swallowed it,” she answered.
I sat there for a moment, trying to figure out if I’d yet again misheard her.
“I went to put it on my window but it fell into my throat and I swallowed it,” she said.
What a story.
In my nearly 30 years of life I can say I have never had something accidentally fall into my mouth which I then swallowed. But I kid you not, that is her story and she is sticking to it.
“What was it exactly?” I asked.
“Okay, ” I sighed, climbing out of bed, putting my clothes back on.
I wanted to sleep.
“What are you doing?” Miss H asked cautiously.
“Getting dressed so we can go to the ER when Papa gets home.” I mean, at this point she still seemed to be breathing so I didn’t feel like I needed to drag all four kids down to the ER.
“What?” Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Kid,” I said to her, leading her out of my room so as not to disturb the babies, “You just told me you swallowed something and don’t know what. It could be anything. A battery. A magnet. Who knows?”
“I don’t think it’s a battery or magnet.”
“Then do you know what it was?”
Roughly 40 minutes later we were at the ER of the Women’s and Children’s hospital. I actually can not rave enough about this hospital and the phenomenal care we have received here.
A few x-rays later and we determined that Miss H had swallowed a flying saucer. Well, something metal that looked similar to a flying saucer. But otherwise, she was on the up and up and the doctor reminded her not to stick things into her mouth.
H stuck to her story. “It fell in there.” The doctor was a good sport and told her she should probably keep her mouth shut then while she’s laying in bed.
Home we went.
I want to tell you that was the end of our ER trips that week, but alas…
Two nights later, feeling on top of the world because I was actually making a proper dinner at a proper time, baby was sleeping, kids were playing; Sweet M comes into the kitchen crying, Miss H behind him.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
M cradled his arm as I envisioned 8 weeks in a cast and now what in the heck would we do? We live on an island paradise, is 8 weeks of no beach even feasible?
It was deduced that while playing, H grabbed him by the wrist to take him off the couch. While better than a broken arm, he still had a dislocated elbow.
The one night I had my act together and was feeling like a million dollars, and I was even going to get to eat a hot dinner as I was headed back to the ER because no way was I going to attempt to pop it back in myself.
Seriously, nothing physically hurts your heart more than having a kiddo in pain. I’d have done nearly anything to have switched places with him as he clung to me and cried.
Per usual, the nurses and doctors were all outstanding and super quick and efficient. They popped it back in while I forced myself not to cry for him.
And then we went back home to three sleeping kiddos and dinner that J had kept warm for me. He’s a keeper.
Miss H may or may not have come back into my room at 4am that same night telling me she had swallowed something else. I may or may not have taken her back to the ER.
Y’all, we should get a discount at the ER at this point. That’s all I’m saying.