Weekly column
Mother’s Day was a doozie for us this year. At our annual Mother’s Day family picnic at our favorite state park, Henry got knocked over by our dog and broke his leg. He is now in a full body cast, and there he shall remain for the next 4-6 weeks.
Like most accidents, this was a fluke. Henry was standing near the dog, she who was on a very long tether to ensure she wouldn’t bother any of the kids. I threw a tennis ball for the dog to fetch, and she took off with her usual quick speed. I watched as the tether got shorter and shorter until it snapped, just behind Henry’s leg. The force threw Henry into the air and then back onto the ground where he landed, his head hitting the ground, his leg splayed at an odd and disconcerting angle.
The incident happened so fast and I was incredibly upset with myself for being the cause of this misery. Before my throw, I had been sure to assess Henry’s distance from the dog, and I was careful to throw the ball far away from my baby. But I did not take into consideration anything about the tether and Henry was lying on the ground before I could even lunge forward to pick him up out of harm’s way.
It took Paul and me a few minutes to decide what to do. While Henry was indeed crying and clearly hurting, there was no blood, no swelling, no signs of real injury. When he continued to be upset, however, we realized it was time to go. We left the other boys with our family members and headed to the emergency room.
We had lasted less than 20 minutes at the picnic before the accident and within an hour, we were headed back out again, our food and toys and children staying behind.
The drive was not totally unpleasant because while I was worried about Henry, when we loaded him in the car seat he stopped crying immediately. It was clear, later on, that the seated position gave him a reprieve from his pain.
At the emergency room doctors and nurses worked to determine the injury and a few hours (and several x-rays) later, the doctor told us Henry had broken his right femur. He mentioned, casually, that Henry would be put in a cast that included one entire leg, part of the other leg, and a major part of his torso. I thought he was joking.
“No,” he said smiling, and then added this was one of those casts that would include the bar between the legs as well.
Not until he said the cast would be on for six weeks did the room start spinning.
Paul and I stayed at the hospital that night with Henry and I think the saddest part about the whole event was watching our baby keep his broken leg perfectly still. The leg was never immobilized – he figured out very quickly what made it hurt and how to avoid that pain. Once a rolled up blanket was placed under the leg, he felt relief and that was all he needed. All night, he slept without moving the leg at all.
Watching Henry going back for surgery was scary and while I knew he was just getting a cast – something people get all the time – I cried just the same. When I saw him in the recovery room about an hour later, I cried a little more. I was relieved for him, happy that his leg was going to feel better soon. But I felt so sad about this huge contraption he would endure for these next few weeks.
And here we are, a few days into this adventure, and things are going okay. I have decided that instead of taking things on a day-by-day basis, I’m going to shoot for hour-to-hour. If that doesn’t work, we’ll take things a minute at a time. This past minute was pretty good. I hope the next few minutes will be even better.
What a challenge. Imagining an immobilized toddler boy – in the summer!- makes my heart hurt. Hour-by-Hour sounds like a good approach. Unfortunately I bet it’s hard to steer Henry towards that thinking.
Best of wishes and swiftest of hours to you and your family.
Just think, almost two weeks already over with the cast! Thankfully he’ll have much of the summer to enjoy running around once it’s off. So sorry this happened; it could happen to any of us. Those split second accidents where everything happens so fast and your feet are stuck to the ground, and you can’t get to the child fast enough are so hard to deal with. You’re doing a great job, and I appreciate the photos so my imagination doesn’t have to work overtime!
Praying for all of you, esp. Henry.
In His Love,
Laura, C.O.L.E. prayer team, http://www.colesfoundation.com
I’m an occasional reader, also from Georgia. I admit I was waiting for this post–it was impossible not to wonder what had happened, to conjecture the mental and emotional range of the experience. Your tale was pretty much what I expected, although (may I say) even in its almost casual canvassing of the event is the evidence of the toll it has taken, and continues to take. You, Henry, and your family have my prayers.
I hope it goes quickly. I have a baby only a few months older (also named Henry) and I can understand how quickly these accidents happen. I pray he gets better quickly and your blessed w/ unlimited patience during this time.
More prayers for your little guy as we kick off summer this weekend. Only a month to go…and look, another minute gone! lol
This will be a story for every mother’s day picnic for many generations!
Speedy recovery and peace to all!
Good GRIEF! I’d wondered what the details were. Poor Henry. Poor MOM!
O, wow… nothing feels worse for a Mommy than when her baby suffers an injury she thinks she could have prevented! My baby girl (who’ll also be 2 in July) broke her collar bone just before Thanksgiving. She used it as an impetus to stop crawling and finally walk. I hope the time goes quickly for y’all… feel better soon, little man!
I think we’ve all been wondering about poor Henry and his injury. So many of us who have never even met your family have been praying for him (and you!). It tests a mother’s limits to the core when one of her babies is hurting. I’ll pray that God bears you up for the remainder of Henry’s confinement in the cast – I know it can’t be easy to keep him busy and occupied. God bless you!!
OH dear Henry! I can’t imagine how you are dealing with this. He will adjust much easier than you. Take care and just think of colic. If you can make it through colic, then you can make it through this!
Hugs!
Hi, I’m RAnn and I’d like to invite you to join Sunday Snippets. Sunday Snippets is a chance for Catholic bloggers, whether they blog exclusively about things Catholic, or whether their “Catholic” posts are few and far between, to share with posts and readers with other Catholic bloggers. To participate, go to your blog and create a post titled Sunday Snippets–A Catholic Carnival. In it, highlight and link to one or more of your posts from the last week. Also, provide a link to this post. Next, go to the host post and add your name and URL to Mr. Linky. This week’s host post is at http://rannthisthat.blogspot.com/2009/05/sunday-snippets-catholic-carnival_23.html
When my kids were 1 & 4 we were in a car accident (hit from behind, kids were in their car seats). 1 yo broke his tibia near the ankle and was in a walking cast for three weeks; it didn't hinder him much. 4 yo broke both tibias just below the knee. She was not casted-up like Henry, but was basically immobilized for 8 weeks.
I was so focused on that end date, that I didn't realize that getting the casts off did not mean she would be able to walk. It took several more weeks for her muscle strength to rebuild.
My 1 yr old isn’t in a cast, but he is currently having a blast (in a quiet, self-satisfied way) being dragged around the house by a big sister on a twin size comforter. She made a little pillow for his head and he is digging the different perspective. So, if Henry is up to it and the boys will be slow enough (big ‘if’, but probably not so big with how they love him), they all might enjoy crusing the house this way for awhile.
Sandy