A new fenced-in play area was designated at the front of the school this year to give the kindergarten children a separate play space, away from the rougher big kids.
The fence was up for little less than a week, corralling the kids and keeping them safe, when I got a call from the school last Thursday. Bronwyn bumped her head playing in the yard and wanted her mom. The girl is used to playing rough with her brother and can shake off a bump or bruise, so I was a bit surprised by the call, but left to pick her up right away.
What I found was a bit more than a bump on the noggin. My poor baby fell and cut her forehead on a metal sign post in the fenced-in area. The one-inch gash was wide open and the blood was flowing. It would take more than a Band Aid to close this wound.
Three hours later, we made our way through triage at the hospital and were finally prepped for stitches. Bronwyn wanted none of it – she claimed she was feeling better, her head didn’t hurt anymore and we were good to go home. I was in complete agreement and wanted nothing more than to be home with a glass of wine to calm my frazzled nerves. Unfotunately for me, Wine would have to wait. As the adult, it was my job to keep us calm while a doctor sewed my baby’s head back together.
They must have heard Bronwyn’s angry screams from the parking lot, yelling at the doctor to hurry up and be done already. My heart was in my throat as I held her down.
To add insult to this injury, the doctor didn’t use the dissolving material to stitch the wound. I hope these stitches come out easier than they went in…