Baby Rocky

I am a mother of two, and for the next month at least, I can still qualify as being a mom of two boys, two years and under. Yes moms, they are both still in diapers, but we are working on that. We do the best we can. I am a laid back mommy,and I have to be in order to maintain my sanity. My house looks like a playschool war zone, and the laundry is an immortal beast that I cannot tame. I have given up on trying to sanitize everything that touches my infant's mouth, but when one of my babies is hurt, common sense takes a back seat, the over protective mother in me materializes, and I find myself in the ER paying $150 for a Physician Assistant to tell me that my baby bumped his nose and all he needs is some Tylenol. Such was the case this morning.

Yesterday I was enjoying a relatively calm fall morning with my boys at the neighborhood park. It was perfect. There was not a cloud in the sky, and with the exception of two other toddlers and mommies who were playing at the swings, we had the entire park to ourselves. Slides and jungle gyms were all free and clear for the boys to explore. This was going to be great, I thought. I even remembered the jackets, diapers, snacks, and sippy sups (all for two, mind you). The boys played for a while on the toddler slides and we moved to the preschool playground when Camden (my oldest) became bored and wanted to go on the big-boy slides. He is an expert. He took off running and Cavan ran behind him. I followed with all the gear.

The boys appeared safe and were having fun, so I sat down on the bench for a second. "This is nice" I thought. I never get to sit down at the park, and usually I return home even more tired than the boys. I noticed Cavan climbing the stairs to go to the big slide, so I run to him and pull him down to the ground. This did not make him happy. I diverted his attention to something else, and I noticed Camden a few feet away. Camden calls me for something and I move toward him. I turn around and see the baby running to another side of the play structure. I move again, but not fast enough. Cavan trips on the monkey bars, hits his nose on the cold metal bars, and falls to the ground. I pick him up thinking that he would be fine. He was screaming, but he did not fall from the bars. They extend from the bridge of the play structure to the ground. He just tripped over the low bars. "Cavie's all-right," I told Camden, who was visibly upset as well. "He just has a boo-boo." Then I saw the blood spill from my baby's nose. We run to the bathroom, and I get tissue and pinch his nostrils shut. I cuddle Cavan in my arms and hold Camden's hand, and we cross the parking lot and head to the car. I clean the blood with wipes, assure the boys that everything will be fine, and then I head for home.

Cavan is very upset and his older brother, Cam is whimpering saying he's sad. It's not far home, and I can tell that Cavan is trying to cuddle in his car seat and go to sleep. He just needs some rest, I thought, and he will feel better. We get home and I give Cavan some milk. His nose has stopped bleeding and he shows me he is tired. I cuddle with him and then put him down for a nap. I have a quiet lunch with Camden and then we play puzzles, read books, and color. He even helps me start supper. Cavan wakes from his nap and Cam gets excited that his playmate is back. He looks bruised, but he is happy. The boys have an afternoon snack and go about the rest of the day as normal. Ryan comes home and dotes on the baby for a while, and we have supper together. We agree that everything is fine.

This morning I woke up panicking. "Oh, God! What if Cavan broke his nose and I didn't even know? What if he is permanently disfigured because of my neglect? I don't want my toddler to look like a baby boxer! What if he is still in pain? Should I have taken him to the doctor?" I am feeling worse by the minute about my baby's still swollen nose, so I decide to take Camden to a drop-in day care and rush Cavan to Urgent Care. We are new to the town and still do not have a local pediatrician. The medical records are en-route to the new office, and we cannot be seen yet. The doctor at Urgent Care informs me that he doesn't have the equipment necessary to care for Cavan. "Equipment?" I thought. "He needs a CAT scan?" Oh no. This is worse than I thought. The Urgent Care doctor gives me directions to the hospital and says we need to go there "just to be safe". After all, Cavan could have a head injury.

We head to the hospital and Cavan is getting fussy along the way. He is tired and hungry. I don't have lunch or even a sippy cup with me. I wasn't really planning on being out this long. I definitely wasn't planning on a trip to the ER.We arrive after five minutes of driving, and I become anxious about being in an ER with my bruised, but otherwise well baby. "I hope he doesn't catch the flu (or worse) in here," I thought. After triage and insurance verification we waited for what seemed like an eternity to be seen by the doctor. Cavan did not want to stay in his stroller, and I didn't want him out of the stroller running the floors and touching everything. The PA arrives, makes baby talk, shines a light up Cavan's nose and says It's just a bump in the nose. He'll be just fine. He can have Tylenol for the pain." He leaves shortly to get our discharge paperwork. Another employee returns with the forms and says, "Your insurance co-pay is $150.00. How will you be paying?"

Cavan Can't Catch A Break!

Cavan (16 months) had his first visit to the ER a couple of months ago when he fell and busted his little baby button nose on the cold, low-level monkey bars of a local playground (see blog entitled "Baby Rocky" for the full story) Since then he has been bumped, bruised, battered, and now that he is in daycare part-time, even bitten.

This morning I was cleaning up from breakfast when I witnessed my baby tumble once again to the ground before I could catch his fall. Since the day he started walking he started climbing, and my life has been a series of mild heart-attacks ever since. I have to move all the food (and anything else interesting) from the kitchen table after every meal. If I don't get the goodies cleared quick enough, Cavan will scoot a chair to the table, climb on top with the greatest of ease, perch in the very center, and start noshing on the leftovers. This morning I was behind my game when he spotted some waffles, climbed up in his older brother's booster seat, and stood to reach the table which was three feet away from the chair. He overestimated his reach. His little feet slipped from underneath him and he tumbled face first to the hardwood floors below. He landed on his nose. I ran to him, scooped him up, gave him a comforting bottle of warm milk, and rocked him in my arms while trying to nurse his wounds with a frozen bag of peas. I don't think we need to go to the ER this time, but I'll keep a bag packed for him in the car, just in case.