So this week was my first "kid injury" as a mommy and boy, it was horrible. On wednesday, prescious baby fell and busted open her lower lip on the playground at nursery school. They called me and told me about it, and I came down there to see her. As soon as I saw the cut, I could tell she needed stitches, so off to the ER we went. The doctor came in , and looked at the cut, and at her teeth, which were fine, thank goodness, and said, yes, the cut needed stitches, but that they were going to have to put her under to do it. I guess I can see that, I mean, what two year old, or even adult, would sit still while someone stitched up the inside of your mouth? OUCH!
So they got her into a hospital gown, and got her all hooked up to all kinds of monitors... which was just horrible to see.... I hated seeing my little girl like that! But then they injected her with the drugs to put her under... and that was worse! I was just killing me to see her like that, so little and helpless! I stayed in the room while they stitched her up, but I couldn't watch the procedure... it was just too much. I cried quietly the whole time.
After it was over they waited about twenty minutes and then we started trying to wake her up. She really didn't want to wake up, so it took a while and she was so fussy and I felt so bad. Finally, she woke up and drank some juice and they let her go home with us. For the rest of the night she refused to eat, drank very little, and only wanted to be held by one of us. It was just terrible. I never, ever want to go through that again.
She's better now, and in fact she went back to nursery school today... but the whole episode just, well, haunts me... I was so scared she wouldn't wake up, would have some kind of reaction to the meds, you can imagine. I could envision every single bad thang that could have happened. None of them did, but still, it was an experience that I think was far scarier for me than it was for her.