Thursday, March 11, 2010

Adrenaline


Today,
a couple hours after Justin left for work, Eisley was tired so she settled into the couch.

Cheerios & sippy cup in hand, she became engrossed in an episode of Miss Spider's Sunny Patch Friends. She usually hates that show, so I knew she was tired.

Not to miss a rare chance for a moment to myself while she's awake, I sat down at the table to read emails & the blogs I catch up with every day.

All was well.

Until
, after about 20 minutes, Eisley left the couch to find me. She was limping. Slumped over. She looked lethargic...

and her left leg was swollen about three times it's normal size - looking ready to burst through the seams of her footed pajamas. The pajamas were still zipped & buttoned, but her leg was deformed and enormous.

I was absolutely alarmed. I read horror stories on other blogs all the time. True stories. Recently one about a boy who drowned in the tub and was technically dead for over 12 minutes {he's okay now}. Another about a little girl who was not so lucky, after a fainting spell she landed face down on a toy and suffocated. {Why do I read these things???}

And if you know me, you know I'm not the calm, collected, laid back mom who brushes off worry and anxiety.

So as I took in this sight - my child hobbling towards me with a horrifically swollen leg - my adrenaline glands intoxicated me.

Now - a lot of people don't mind adrenaline. It's fun! It's the reason we ride roller coasters, right?

UNTIL you become a parent, and then suddenly there's another side to adrenaline. It's evil. It means your child is in danger. This is, beyond question, the worst feeling in. the. world.

It makes you sick.

It makes you want to scratch your skin off.

It makes you physically ill.

When you are a parent this kind of adrenaline is liquid dread, 100 proof, injected directly into your marrow.

I've never experienced anything like it until I became a mom.

So that's what happened today, adrenaline shot into my body as I reached for Eisley.

I admit this, I didn't stop and think logically. I reacted. I panicked. I assumed the worse. {And I hate assumptions!}

Now here is reason #243 why moms are most certainly superheroes in their own right:

In that millisecond it took for me to reach down and grab my child - a mom can think one million thoughts in an instant. Our brains go into overdrive.

Here's a few of those thoughts, to give you an idea, that my supermom mind thought in the fraction of a second it took for me to lean over:

"Oh my gosh!!!"
"What happened?!"
"Did she break her leg?"
"Did she get a spider bite?"
"Why is she lethargic?"
"She looks distraught!"
"What am I going to feel when I touch her leg?"
"Is it black and blue?"
"Is she going to live?"
"Do I call 911 or do I rush her to the hospital?"
"The doctors are going to think I'm a bad mother..."
"Did this happen after she fell off the bed this morning
and it's been swelling all morning?!"
"What if she has to have her leg amputated?"
"Why isn't she crying? Does it hurt?"

{Note: I have heard that toddlers & babies can break their bones and show very few signs of distress, some parents don't even realize it for a few days.}

Did I overreact? Yes. {It's me, I always overreact a bit. I'm an excitable person. I will not apologize for this, however. I like having strong emotions and vibrancy in my heart. Most of the time.}

Sick, achy, and dreading what I would see & feel - my hand finished the journey towards her leg and gently squeezed.

Eisley looked up at me.

"Shuh-sha?" She said. Hardly distraught.

I pushed harder, since it wasn't hurting her.

Squish!

The tsunami-sized adrenaline waves receded within my veins.

Left over was a faint numb feeling and weakness in my limbs. I laughed and rolled my eyes at myself.

No spider bites.

No broken bones.

No mystery disease.

Apparently her diaper had come undone on the right, and worked itself down her left left. She had been limping from the strange feeling of a wet, full diaper wrapped around her leg. She had acted lethargic because, duh, it was nap time.

Silly mommy.


And although she was half-covered in her own urine, that was nothing a bath with mom couldn't fix.

Crisis averted.

My daughter had two perfect little legs.

A bath.

And a dry diaper.

6 comments:

  1. Great story, Heather. I was so worried for Eisley! thanks for the good laugh today. :)

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  2. Thanks for the comment, Dalley!

    Isn't my story ridiculous? I'm such a worrier...

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  3. Well sorry, but you get that from me. When I started to read the story, I gasped, and found myself uttering "oh no!" several times. I was kind of freaked out! Somehow it didn't occur to me whilst I was reading it that if the ending of the story had been disastrous you wouldn't have typed it on your blog. You would have been calling me from the hospital or something--LOL!

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  4. Ha! This made my day, and I'm glad Eisley is okay!

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  5. This is one of those posts I think, "Should I go delete that?" after posting it.

    Lol, but it is funny. I know mom, I do get it from you.

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  6. Oh, that's cute! But I'll tell you what, I know exactly what you're talking about when you speak of the evil adrenaline rush. And I don't like it one bit! I was so glad to read that it was just the diaper!

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