Monday, April 23, 2012
It was Easter Sunday: We had a lovely day, a visit from the Easter Bunny, an easter egg hunt, visit from the grandparents and then one of hubby’s mate over for dinner. It was a special day.
And then, in a moment of inattention, I hurt my bubba boy.
Koby was starting to get a little bit cranky and was almost due to go to bed for the night, so I decided that he needed his dummy to start to wind down. We have a couple of the same dummy, and the one I picked up was attached to a dummy chain so that it can be clipped to clothes.
Absentmindedly I grabbed a piece of his shirt and clipped it on… and then he screamed. And shrieked. And howled. And hyperventilated.
I didn’t just clip his shirt, I clipped his skin as well.
Oh my poor little boy!
Have a look at that clamp in the photo - that sucker bites down HARD.
Hubby made light of it until he decided to clip his own chest to see what it felt like. Umm, yeah – ouch. I felt terrible, walking around the room and trying to hush and calm my shrieking infant. He had a small rising welt where the teeth had crushed his skin together.
After a couple of minutes I sat down and burst into tears, which was highly embarrassing seeing as how we had company and all.
“Mother of the Year!” I blurted out through my tears…
Slightly melodramatic, but I was caught up in the emotion of it all.
Koby calmed down shortly afterwards, into those gorgeous little hitching sobs that kids do once the real drama is over and they’re recovering just fine in mamas arms.
But I didn’t feel fine. I fell into a bit of a funk all night. Couldn’t sleep that night either. I lay in bed, hour after sleepless hour, and let my imagination run away from me. Thoughts of not being able to protect my children. Thoughts of scary things happening to them, imagining future hurts, future spills, future fears. How could I possibly protect them from all that, when it was possible for me to hurt them? Me – the one that loves them the most?
I went through a stage like this when Skye was a baby too, after THIS incident. Danger seems to be everywhere for a while, in every corner of the house, in every moment. Ordinary household objects become something to be feared. I found myself wandering around each room, looking for potential hazards.
For the moment I feel somewhat safe in the knowledge that they are still little, and still cling to me. I know where they are, every second of the day. They are safe here with me, at all times, rarely out of my sight. They cant open doors (yet), they don’t go anywhere without me knowing where they are or being with them.
But I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to let them go once they start kindy, or start school. How do you not worry? How do you put aside that constant fear that something could happen to them - my two precious creations?
And then it goes on – all too soon they will be older and want to sleep over at friends houses… They will want to be dropped off at the shopping centre with friends… Go to the movies… and don’t want their over-protective mama around.
At what point do you relax and let them spread their own wings? I know its necessary, I know its part of growing up. I guess its a gradual thing - this letting go - but I really wonder how I'm going to be able to sleep at night in the years to come!
Posted by Miss Positive at 3:18 pm