Another first

Most of our "firsts" occurred during the first year after Nate died. Some were hard, some were unbearable, some weren't too bad. There are still a few firsts that I haven't tackled yet. I still haven't been to a funeral. I still haven't held a newborn baby (or any baby for that matter). Until 2 hours ago, I still hadn't stepped foot into a hospital.

This morning was rough. My husband and two of my kids have had strep throat the past 2 days. Everything is always more complicated when 1/2 of your family is sick. But my 10 year old had to be at her soccer game at 7am. I rose at 6am and got all 4 kids dressed, fed and in the car by 6:45. It's always a lot of work but I've done it many times before. My husband still wasn't feeling well and decided to stay home. We arrived to the game and my 3 little ones were playing around while my daughters team warmed up.

They were playing on a rock. My motherly instinct told them not to feeling that it was dangerous. But my little Kyla did not listen. A moment later, she fell and split her chin open on the rock. When I looked at it and realized it needed stitches, I immediately felt as if I was going to faint. How could I walk inside a hospital again? How could I watch my poor baby be stitched up again? The last images that I have from the hospital were like an episode of ER where a dozen doctors and nurses were rushing around trying to bring Nate back to life after he went code blue. We watched them cut him open and perform emergency surgery right in front of us. It was horrific. The thought of dealing with another medical issue was just overwhelming.

I sat on the soccer field and tears started rolling down my face. Only a couple of the family's knew what happened to Nate last year. It's a new team so the rest of the team was unaware. I had to hold it together because my other kids were starting to freak out a little. I kept reassuring them that it would be okay. They hate hospitals too.

I called my husband and thank goodness, he rallied. He met me at the field and took Kyla to the E.R. I didn't want to leave my 10 year old at her game alone and she would have been a mess if we did. So I sat and watched her game. I don't remember much of it. Images of Nate's hospital experience kept replaying through my mind. All the tubes. All the instruments. All the doctors and nurses. As I sat there I kept wondering if Kyla was okay. Wondering if she was crying. Wondering if she was scared. My husband called with a couple of updates. He said that she wouldn't be able to swim for 10 days. We're supposed to go on our long awaited vacation this week. We're spending the week at a beach resort. How miserable is she going to be if she can't swim. We haven't taken a real vacation for 2 years. We were so looking forward to it. Why did this have to mess it up. Plus, this is the weekend that I'm TTC. Now, my husband has strep throat, my daughter has stitches and I'm a wreck. Nice.

By the time that her game was over, Kyla was getting stitched up. I quickly loaded my kids into the car and drove straight to the hospital. I didn't want to take one step inside but I did. The need to hold my daughter and be assured that she was okay superseded my fears. So without pause, I walked in. It was a different hospital than Nate was in but in my opinion, all hospitals look the same. I found my sweet girl just as she was ready to go. I hugged her. I kissed her. This time we walked out of the hospital with all of the kids that we walked in with. That is huge!!!

I had wondered when I would step foot into another hospital. I had hoped that it would be to give birth again but that was not to be. It was today. It's over. I survived. Yet one more first crossed off my list.