all images © Meghan Boyer Photography

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Get a Room

On June 15th, I experienced my most terrifying parenting moment yet.  I'm sure there are more to come.  I try not to think about that part.  I had taken the triple threat to a local bike trail.   There is also a playground and numerous baseball fields.  Lillian and Grady rode their bikes and I pushed Dempsey in the stroller behind them.  They rode down a hill and around a curve, just out of my sight.  I heard a bike tumble and a brief cry from Grady.  I ran.  I had never heard that cry before.  Grady was on the ground.  His face turned toward me.  But nothing was coming out.  I was expecting a loud howl any minute.  I thought he was taking a big gulp of air, readying himself to let out an explosive wail.  One of those kind of cries.  When I reached him, he was face down.  Hands clenched into tiny fists.  I didn't even want to look.  I scooped him into my arms.  There was no response.  His eyes were dazed, face pale, and his tongue hung from his mouth.  I can't even write what I was thinking.  I screamed.  Then screamed some more.  No one heard me.  I grabbed my phone and called 911.  He was unreponsive for less than a minute.  It felt like an eternity.  While I was on the phone, he began to wimper.  I laid him on his back, leaving the helmet on.  Remembering that I shouldn't move him.  I  told the 911 operator that I hadn't moved him.  I wasn't trying to lie.  I hadn't even realized what I had done. 

The paramedics asked me if he knew how to ride a bike.  Later, this makes me giggle.  Grady has been riding a two wheeler, with training wheels, since he was two and a half.  Twenty six pounds of tornado.   He barely weighs more than the bike. 

Two hours later, he walked ran... giggling...out of the emergency room.  Carrying my heart.  Two more children ran behind him.  With my other two hearts.  I have a lot of hearts.  I'm blessed.  To have three hearts.

Being a parent is tough on your hearts.

Eight days later, we took an evening trip to the pool.  We were there for less than thirty minutes.  I heard a cry.  I knew that cry this time.  I ran over and scooped him up.  Cupping his chin and racing towards something.  I grabbed a towel and frantically looked around.  Moms came running.  Two happened to be trauma nurses.  I didn't scream this time.  In fact I was surprisingly calm.  Off we went.  In the ambulance.  For the second time in 8 days.  Five stitches later, Grady ran sprinted...giggling...out of the emergency room.  My heart tried to catch up.  Two more children chased him.  Tossing my other two hearts back and forth.  I am blessed.

Less than 24 hours later, two of the stitches came untied.  Back we went.  To the emergency room.  This time without the escort of the ambulance.  We sat in the waiting room.  Grady said, "Let's go to my room now!"   And why shouldn't he have his own room?  With his name on the door!   He should have an ambulance named after him!  Get the fire department on the phone!  He gets his wish.  But this time it's room number 3.  The first two times, room number 7.  With a steri strip on one half, and three stitches remaining in the other, Grady carries his chin and my heart, proudly out of the emergency room doors.

They told me the steri strip wouldn't budge.  I should expect it to still be on there when he takes his driving test.   Really.  They should know him by now.  I mean, come on.  The kid has his own room.  In the emergency department.  That steri strip?  Lasted as long as a dry diaper.  I buy more steri strips. 

Two days later, he uses my parent's dining room floor as a slip and slide.  You don't have to act surprised.  And I'll completely understand if you gossip to your mom's group about me. Another stitch popped out and the steri stripped side busted back open.  Back we went.  To the waiting room.  Grady demands, "Let's go to my room now!"  Get this kid a room.  And get one for me while you're at it.  Although it may be in a different ward. 

I am the mother of the triple threat hearts.  And I count my blessings every day.  Because I never want to lose one.

After the bike tumble.  I couldn't help but smile once we knew he'd be okay.  Dempsey was happy too.

The pool tumble.

Nurses rock.

The triple threat hearts.
Mr. Tough Tornado

Ready to play soccer.


  1. Oh my all of it. What an amazing gift your three hearts are.

  2.'s the word I was looking for ;) Dear God, thank your for my mean gifts....

  3. You inspire me :) I take each day for granted I think sometimes. At different moments I find myself wishing for "me" time. Or for time without constantly reminding them what to do and how to do it. But I remember last year and our hospital ride and a few other ER trips. Even though ours have been minimal. You crack me up with your positive outlook I need to take some lessons. Happy everyone is ok :)

    1. Thank you. We should all get some 'me' time...but somehow in my house, as I'm sure is the same in yours, it turns into 'we' time!