On a beautiful fall morning a couple of weeks ago, I decided that it would be a fabulous idea to open a few of the windows in the house to let in some fresh air. Chandler was outside mowing the yard, I was inside cleaning, and the kids were running back and forth from window to window watching Chandler mow. I saw the kids push one of their little Pottery Barn chairs up against the window, and Barrett was standing in the chair and leaning on the back of it to see out of the window in the living room. The living room windows are pretty much second story windows because we have a basement, and are probably 13 or 14 feet off of the ground. You can probably see where this is going.....
At one point, I made the kids move the chair away from the window because I thought for a split second that the screen could pop out. This is the point that I should have closed the window. I didn't, though, because I thought, "That could NEVER happen." Chandler was outside, down below, and he yelled up for the kids to get back away from the window. The same thought crossed his mind, but he shrugged it off like I did. I was starting a load of laundry in the laundry room, which is right off of the kitchen, which opens up to the living room, when Charlee came running in the kitchen saying, "Bubba is not okay! He fell!" I immediately knew what had happened. A choice word came to my lips, but somehow it didn't come out. Good thing since Charlee was right beside me. I hurled myself down the steps of the deck to find my sweet little man lying on his back in the grass screaming. He's screaming ~ thank you Jesus. I began screaming Chandler's name. He wasn't responding, so I ran around the house with Barrett. For a split second, I thought I may should leave him on the ground and not move him for fear of a neck or back injury, but I could not leave him down there. As a mom, you simply have to hold your baby when he's hurting. It's instinctive. I found Chandler, told him what happened, got myself decent (ie ~ put my bra on. i know, i know.), and we were in the car and on our way to the hospital in our pajamas. Charlee was very calm the entire time. She started tearing up when we got back to the exam room, but I handed her my phone and she watched a movie on it and was fine.
There were probably 8 people ~ doctor, nurses, staff ~ in the exam room when we first got there, and they were all just looking at Barrett. Watching him. He was still hysterical, but the sweet thing never threw up, never showed any signs of concussion, and seemed to be okay. He didn't act like any part of his body was hurting, but we wanted a CT and chest xray to be sure there wasn't something we couldn't see. I wouldn't have felt right not doing it, but he was not really into having his arms bound and being passed through a big ring with a laser light. The scan wasn't the best because he didn't want to be still, but from what we could tell everything looked fine. Next came the chest xray. I won't even go into the details of the torture device that they put him in to get a good look at his chest, but let's just say he wasn't really a fan of that part either. Poor thing had already had a traumatic enough experience, and now he had to go through even more! Totally necessary, though. I wanted to know that he was okay. And, like the CT, the xray looked great. No broken ribs, collar bones, nothing. We went back to the exam room and it didn't take long for him to calm down. He was playing, smiling, talking, and ready to get on with his sweet little life. The doctor wanted to keep him for a couple of hours for observation, but after that time, he released us and told us to just watch for signs of a concussion.
We came home, had lunch, played outside. Barrett was a little tired and irritable, but nothing unusual for what he had gone through that morning. I put him down for a nap around his usual time. As soon as he laid down, he was out. I woke him up to be sure he would wake up. He went back down and slept for a few hours. That was a long few hours! He woke up just fine, though. That night, he started favoring his right arm a good bit. We didn't really know if it was his shoulder or arm, but we thought something must be bothering him. He never acted like it hurt, though. I took him to his regular doctor Monday where his arm was xrayed, and his wrist had a break. The next day, we got in to see an orthopedic who put that sweet arm in a blue cast. Barrett was mad about it for a few minutes because he couldn't straighten his arm, but then he moved on with life. The first couple of days, he fell a lot because he was off balance, but he adapted pretty quickly to wearing it. He wore the cast two weeks, and this Tuesday it came off and he's in a splint for two weeks now. I later learned from Charlee that Barrett had climbed onto the top of the back of the chair and leaned, head first, into the screen. The screen popped out of place only on the bottom, so he fell through and landed on his face. He still has a bit of a scratch on his chin, and he had a scratch under his nose. It looks like his top tooth may have chipped the tiniest bit, too. There was a small scratch on his left shoulder, too. Chandler and I both agreed that we are so glad we didn't see the fall. We would've thrown up.
Scary stuff. Let me just say, though, that I have never had a peace come over me like I did that day. I am normally one to be pretty unstable during situations like this. Several years ago, a drunk guy on a bicycle ran into my car and busted out my windshield in a mall parking lot while I was driving, and I was hysterical. That's a different story altogether, though. Ha! All that I know to tell you is that God placed a calm on me that I've not experienced, and I knew from the moment I picked Barrett up that he was going to be alright. No fear. Only faith. Angels carried that sweet thing. I can try as hard as I may to control every aspect of my children's lives, but I am not in control of any of it. Not one second. God has entrusted these sweet babies to Chandler and me to protect them, guide them, teach them, and nurture them, but I better not for one second think that I am the only one supplying them with what they need. I fail at being a mother every day. I could beat myself up about not closing the window when the thought crossed my mind, or I could rest in knowing that somebody greater than I could ever even imagine has "got my back". My life is in His hands. Chandler's life is in His hands. Charlee's life is in His hands. Barrett's life is in His hands. Thank you, Jesus! I give it all to You, lay it all at Your feet. You are the only one who can supply us with all we need.
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