Oh My God! I broke my baby!

Oh, my dear sweet lord, I broke my child. Oh, God, oh, God, Oh, God...sweetie, come to Daddy.

It was about 8:30 AM on Sunday and it was Meredith's day to sleep in. Ellie and I were at the tail end of our morning play about to go upstairs and start making breakfast for mommy, when it happened. And it happened so fast, I couldn't even really tell you what happened.

Shh... shhhh, it's okay, it's okay. Everything's going to be okay. Oh, kiddo, please don't cry. Daddy has you. Daddy has you.

We had done it at least a thousand times. In fact, it was part of our routine. She slams herself into the big blue exercise ball and I pull her up and over the top on her stomach. Then we bounce a few times, pretend to roll off a couple of times before Daddy saves her and then, plop back on the ground to do it again. Neither of us are novices at this point.

Can you show Daddy where it hurts? Is it your arm? Do you want Daddy to kiss it? No?!?

As I rocked Ellie back and forth trying to soothe her, I quickly and distinctly noticed that this time, something was different. I couldn't get her to calm down. She was in some real pain and I had caused it somehow. Usually within about two minutes, even if she trying to milk it a bit, she calms down a little and then with a good distraction and whamo! all better. But not this time. This time Ellie was holding her left arm at the wrist and wouldn't let me anywhere near it. I tried everything to get her move it around and when I went to really test it out, she shouted in pain... simply the worst sound in the world.

Oh, honey, it's okay, it's okay. Do you need to go to the hospital? (meekly: yeah) Yeah? Do you know what a hospital is? (meekly lying: yeah) Okay, let's go wake up Mommy.

Perhaps only slightly less terrifying than knowing your child is in very real pain is waking up your spouse with the news that you think you need to go to the hospital. After about 15 minutes of trying to calm Ellie down without success, I very carefully, went upstairs to tell Meredith that I think we need to go to the hospital. This coming from the parent who usually does not worry. The one who had all the confidence in the world that his child would be fine no matter what the injury. We had to go to the hospital to get Ellie's arm looked at AND so I would already be there when Meredith attempted to kill me.

Hey Mer, (crying child) I think we need to go to the hospital. (Meredith bolts up like... well like a mother who has a hurt child I guess.) What?!? Why?!?

Thankfully, no attempted murder. I underestimated Meredith's complete lack of concern for how it happened. It's all about the now, it's all about making sure Ellie is going to be okay. We spoke to the on-call nurse at the pediatrician's office and she suggested we take her in for precautionary X-Rays.

Ugh. You mean while my hands were on my child, when I had everything in full control, I did something to cause 'precautionary X-rays?!?!' Ugh.

We went over to our neighbor's house to borrow there car, so we could get to the hospital. Our car was in the shop, so we had to borrow their Prius. Nice car by the way, but I never think I'll get used to the feeling of a car being on with no engine noise or vibration. John, our neighbor was at the store, so we had to wait and Karen, nurse practitioner extraordinaire, came over to exam Ellie. She used a puppet to get Ellie distracted and move some of her fingers. The car finally came and we got up to the hospital.

Child protective services is going to come and take my child away. I can hear myself explaining to the nurses what happened, and I sound like the worst, most irresponsible father on the planet. I totally deserve to have my daughter in the hands of someone more capable.

After registering and waiting a little while with Ellie being a very good big girl, we have to get the X-Rays. As I carry her through the halls and I can almost hear the whispers.

Can you believe it? Look how perfect the child is. And there's the guy who hurt her. creep.

The nurses strap Ellie and me in and I have to hold Ellie's arm still so the machine an get a clear picture of her arm. Ellie screams because it hurts and my heart sinks even lower. After the X-rays are taken, the doctor comes in and explains that nothing is broken. (Oh, thank God, I didn't break my baby!) But Ellie has "Nurse Maid's Elbow". It's quite common he says for kids between 18 months and four years.

Not for my child, doc.

It's a dislocation of a tendon in the elbow and happens when their arms are jerked. Usually as a parent (or nurse maid I guess) reaches for a child as they are walking in the other direction. The tendon snaps back over a boney point near the joint and the child's arm is usually limp and useless until it snaps back. It's like having a dislocated shoulder that the doctor just needs to pop back in place. With a swift motion, the doctor is checking Ellie's arm and then...
They gave Ellie some Motrin and after the doc's maneuver, she was almost good as new before we got back back to the car. There is no worse feeling in the world than seeing your child in pain. With the possible exception of knowing you were the cause of said pain.

The good news is, even though I broke my baby, baby's bounce back amazingly fast. By the time we were home, she was outside playing as if nothing happened. Parenting is a series of trials and errors. Some of them will be physical, some emotional and others spiritual, but, I think you can't go wrong if the treatment always is:

Respond quickly with love and compassion and no matter what happens, things that are broken or even hurt or twisted can be always fixed.