Hospitable, Too

Oh, Jo, you poor little daredevil, you.

I'm not writing this at the date and time stamped on the post, but that is when we returned from your second trip to the hospital in your life. On this evening, April 5th, 2013, you had a bad spill.

I should explain that at this stage you are very ambitious with your movement - though not quite capable - and we never know exactly what to expect of you. Some days it seems you're taking your contemplative time learning about balance, momentum and velocity. And others: BOOM. You surprise us.

Such was the case this night, when you were set on the bed where you have been fine to date, and in a matter of moments we were suddenly, sickeningly aware of you definitively being NOT fine by the vibration of a sickening THUD.

Ugh. My heart still tries to claw out of my ear just remembering it.

You cried, yes. You wailed, I think for the first time in your life getting a brief hint of how violent and sudden the world can be when it turns on you. We were horrified, yes. But we also knew that's the standard response, and that babies are more resilient than first-time parents can ever believe, and that what least needed to happen is that we fly off the handle. Further:

• Nothing came out of you, blood or otherwise.
• You landed on a thick rug (I have hated that rug, its awkward placement, constantly curling up against the bed or closet edge. I love that rug more than Batman now)
• You were very responsive.
• Your pupils had no dilation issues.
• You had a clear scrape on your nose and an irritated red forehead, but no swelling, suggesting you landed face-down - probably the safest position.
• You did not vomit - the most significant indicator of a baby in danger of serious brain injury.

 However, moments after you screamed, you got sleepy. Uncharacteristically sleepy. You are a child who has to ever be coaxed into sleep, up to and including when you are most exhausted. Watching you nod irresistibly and without warning into your mother's shoulder terrified us.

We decided the only way to be certain of your safety was to have you looked at by a professional. So we kept nudging you awake as we strapped you into your carrier and walked the some twenty blocks to the nearest emergency room. Your mom called her mom, explaining, receiving the comfort of her experienced calm. I parried off the constant urge to shove strangers out of the way, and tried to focus on contingencies and plans thereof.

Here's a list of things I have to be grateful for in our emergency room experience:

• A super competent, kind and concerned receiving guy. He looked and sounded no-nonsense Long Island, but handled us with care and made sure we knew - unasked - that if we elected to leave before seeing a doctor we could not be charged for seeing one. He was also the first (far from the last) to ask of us, "First-time parents?"
• A really friendly couple of Indian women - family, but I couldn't decide if they were sisters or otherwise - who just enjoyed the heck out of you. You perked up, you see, almost immediately upon reaching the emergency room. No sleepiness, not even cranky. Playful.
• A surly teenager in the corner, who was glued into her phone for most of the night, and couldn't help but share a smile with us over your smiling flirtations with her.
• An overweight man who clearly had far more evident concerns than we that night, who nevertheless tapped my arm to make sure I didn't leave my favorite hat on the seat when we moved you and all your accoutrement to the examining room.
• The understanding nurse who saw us, was thorough, understanding of babies and their moods, and unconcerned by anything she observed.
• Several other doctors and nurses who just had to come in to the examination room to say hello and flirt with you.
• The poor, stretched out man on the other side of a window, freshly wheeled in and miserable, who was having none of it...but you just had to smile and cackle at him, regardless.
• Volition, and taking it to just leave as the time grew late and our cares grew light(er) in the glow of your returned enthusiasm.

It was a rough night of worry, and the hospital called to check in on us a couple of days later, but everything turned out just fine. It was, frankly, the best possible outcome for what I've heard is an inevitable experience as a new parent.

But, please: Don't do that. Ever again.