Or as I like to call it, "(Not so) Happy New Year!"
*I should warn the queasy and faint of heart that there ARE actually pictures of the cut and blood.*
On with the story. On New Year's Day, we had Steph, Dave, and Natalie over for lunch and presents. The kids were playing, the grown ups were talking, and we were all having a great time.
Wyatt, Reese and Natalie were upstairs playing with the Rainbow Loom in the room over the garage, and Hudson and Finley were downstairs with us. I think the words, "Where is Hudson?," had just come out of my mouth when I heard the screaming.
Loud, loud, LOUD screaming. I ran up the stairs (through the open kitchen gate that we always shut) and found him at the bottom of the staircase in the room over the garage (it's about 5 steps) with blood coming from his forehead. I knew immediately that it was going to need stitches. We were able to apply pressure and get an ice pack on it for a little bit (the house was stacked with two former lifeguards and two lifeguard trainers. Appropriate first aid execution was not a problem.) Steph and Dave were so great to stay with the other kids while my sister and Stevie made their way over to take over child watching duties.
Allow me to say that I took this way worse than he did. I was panicked. Obviously, most of this is "mom instinct." You see your kid is sick or hurt (vomit, blood, etc.), and you worry. But you also jump into the "what can I do right now to make my baby better?" mode. Fortunately, I was able to hold back the tears until later in the day, and we were able to get him where he needed to be.
Hudson did so, so well. The entire time. He barely cried, and he sat pretty quietly and nicely the entire time we were in the ER.
His hair basically covered up the entire area. We still don't know exactly what happened. He was laying at the bottom of the stairs when I got there, so I think he tripped and hit his head on the wooden banister. Reese's description of the incident is, "I told him he was going to kill himself playing on the stairs, and then he fell."
Thanks, kiddo.
(Netflix is a lifesaver.)
We were at the ER for about two hours and forty five minutes. He did so well when they stitched him up. He was restrained, but he only cried when they numbed it (and there was a little whimpering thrown in there). He was such a good sport. We were so proud of him!
He kept the stitches in for 6 days. I just can't say enough about how wonderful this guy was. I was sitting there feeling awful for him, but was also kind of in awe of his bravery and trust. He's an amazing little boy!
He was not a fan of getting them taken out, but we made it through.
So we've survived our first experience with stitches, and we're hoping for no more!
