Poor baby!

Our son fell flat on his face at the playground yesterday morning. He cried in Zak’s arms for half an hour, then they went home, which is only 12 minutes away, but our son wouldn’t let go of his dad who had to carry him home while pushing the stroller with the other hand. I’ve been there, done that: it’s not fun, and my baby was much lighter back then! Zak was unable to make him eat, since his lip was all bloodied and swollen, and ended up putting him to sleep in his arms, on the couch. When he woke up (luckily, two hours later), he actually ate and drink a little and seemed better. I stopped at the store on my way home and bought some straws to help him drink more easily, and yogurt in case he wouldn’t be able to ingest any solids, but he actually ate pretty normally at supper. I was able to put him to bed at a decent time and he slept very well.

This morning, though, he looks like we beat him up… It’s horrible! He has scratches on his forehead, his upper lip and his chin, and his lower lip is so swollen he looks like he lost a boxing match. He tried to nurse, but couldn’t – it hurt. And when I said I was going to the doctor’s this morning (routine appointment, nothing important) he asked to come with me, saying: “I go with you, and I talk to the lady, and boo-boo go away!”. Every time I asked him if he wanted to eat or drink something, he kept coming back to the idea that the boo-boo would go away – I guess he was trying to say that he would wait until he felt better before he ate. I tried to explain that the boo-boo would go away, but that it would take some time and he would better eat in the meantime. And he did – a little. And he drank a whole bunch of milk with a straw. So he’s not about to starve.

But every time I look at him, especially when I see the inside of his lip – I guess he bit it quite hard when he fell – it hurts. I mean, seriously, I almost feel a physical pain. Even though I know that it’s no big deal and that he’ll be just fine in a few days, it looks so horrible that it provokes a physical reaction in me. I guess we’re wired that way, so we take care of our injured young instead of leaving them to die (I mean in caveman’s times, of course). But I just can’t imagine how hard it must be, as a mother, to watch you child really suffer, like when they have a cancer, a bad appendicitis, or something. I just hope I never find out!

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