Trauma in the Home

Last night, after yet another debate about why Lucy should go to bed RIGHT NOW instead of staying up to ask us endless five year old questions, she ran down the hall and fell into a little bookcase. We hear the crash and she starts to cry. So I roll my eyes and walk upstairs to put her in bed. I turn the corner to see a bloody mess on my poor baby’s face. I run and pick her up, scream for Matt and run downstairs while he is tearing apart the bathroom closet trying to get our first aid kid. I get her face cleaned up enough to see an inch long gash on her forehead that is gushing blood. Needless to say, nothing makes your heart race like seeing your baby hurt like that.

I sang her primary songs while trying to stop the bleeding as Matt cleaned up the mess around the house. There was blood all over the stairs and her nightgown and the kitchen and bathroom floor, but amazingly, there was only one drop on either carpets.

Anyway, after she calmed down and the bleeding stopped, we checked her out. It wasn’t very deep, but deep enough that it needed some attention. So we super glued her skin back together, cleaned her all up and gave her some ice cream. With the glue, I’m pretty sure we can avoid a nasty scar.

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