So, last night I wanted to blog about how rotten my Jackalope has been of late. Not to anyone else - just me and his dad. Running away from us, telling us no, hiding and refusing to respond when we call him... But I just couldn't bring myself to whine about something that is most likely due to something we're doing (or not doing). After finally getting him to sleep last night, Wayne and I discussed possible reasons for his extreme behavior. Given that he's no longer in preschool and we've been pretty busy lately, we're wondering if he's lacking attention and stimulation. We planned to have Wayne take him on a special daddy-son day this afternoon and to re-address our concerns this weekend with more possible causes/solutions.
In a less calm, rational way... I was beyond frustrated. Yelling at him to try to get him to listen. (Which I know doesn't work but I was having one of those days... weeks.) I was at a loss as to what we could possibly do but knew we needed time to figure it out and caaaaallllmmmm doooowwwwnnnn.
This morning, he did pretty well. He got up and got dressed, ate his breakfast and we were on our way to my Bible study with little to no argument. The lady in the nursery said he was perfectly behaved and helped pick up all the toys without being asked. In the parking lot, he got a little nuts and was running around, playing in dirt and not listening. My friend and I decided to take the boys to the park, then meet our husbands for lunch. At the park, he was having a lot of fun, playing with his friends and climbing the rock wall. Suddenly, as we said it was about time to round them up, we heard screaming. I ran to the rock wall and found my baby rolling on the floor, screaming and holding his back. He'd fallen from the top and/or middle (top according to him) and, we think, landed on his back/butt. Jack will cry if something hurts but usually will go back to playing after a few minutes of cuddling. He refused to be put down, whimpering, "It hurts. It hurts. I don't like this." Completely heartbreaking to me. Then, he said his butt hurt and his legs hurt. That began the slightly panicked reel in my head - what if he'd seriously hurt his back? And I moved him. Should I not have moved him? Should I put him in the car? Will that hurt him more?
On the way home, I called his pediatrician. My thought was to ask if I should just take him home, give him ibuprofen and see how he felt in a little while. His refusal to stand up and when I forced him to, his immediate curling and clutching at his stomach really scared me. The nurse instructed me to take him to urgent care or the ER. Urgent care seemed the better choice as the hospital in our little town tends to be slow and frustrating. Wayne met us there and soon we saw the tech who told us to go to the ER. (They refunded our co-pay and were soooo nice!!) I was a little calmer but still didn't want to chance taking him home to wake up the next morning with him unable to walk because of swelling or something else we couldn't see. He'd stopped crying but was still refusing to walk or stand and if I shifted him a certain way, he'd cry out.
By the time we saw the triage guy at the ER (not too long, btw), Jack was feeling even better. He crouched down to pick up a sticker and walked to the scale. All VERY relieving but they still said it'd be best to get him completely checked... just in case. At this point, Wayne and I were more relaxed and Jack wanted to play with the waiting room toys.
And then all my insecurities and self-doubt and stupid "what other people think" crap crept back in... "Ugh. I bet everyone thinks I'm such a super paranoid mom and I'm overreacting and making it worse. They probably think I'm so stupid and over-emotional. That I'm hyper-dramatic." Luckily, a friend text me back and said, "You are protective of your baby! You listen to your gut and when you think you need professional help, you get it for him. Better that than not take him and be freaking out, I think." Which made me remember - I am JACK'S mom. No one else's. And if I feel there's something worth looking at, then I am the only one who can make that decision. So, if people want to criticize me, then let them. I have to do what I think is best. (BTW - no one said a single harsh thing to me. All that negativity was in my own head.) Maybe I tend to err on the side of caution and of protectiveness but he's such a miracle to me. I was told I'd probably never have babies. We're trying to have another one and it might not happen. So, I'm not taking any chances. I don't want him to be a wimp or unable to do things for himself, but I definitely want him to know if something needs done, Mom is there to make it happen. To take care of him. (Dad, too, btw. Don't mean to leave him out! LOL)
So, we get in to see the doctor and it takes no time at all for him to assess the Jackalope. I was suprised and pleased at how thorough he was - he had him stand, sit, lie down, turn his head this way and that, stretch his arms up, grip his fingers... he listened to his belly and felt it... checked him all over for pain and bruising... checked his eyes, nose, mouth and ears. And gave him a clean bill of health. He said we were right to bring him in but that he's really, really good.
Whew!!!
Thank God!!! And thank all my friends who prayed for us and kept us in their thoughts. And talk about a reality check... as much as Jack can frustrate the ever-loving life out of me - he is the best thing that ever happened to either of us. He is a miracle and a gift and a joy. And we have had the best evening in a long time - reading, singing lullabies, joking, talking and just being together. <3
