wyatt split his head open

WARNING: SOME DETAILS MAY GROSS YOU OUT. JUST WANTED TO GIVE A HEADS UP.

My baby.

My first born.

My somewhat clumsy child. I mean that in a sweet way. I do.

Sunday on the way home from church I asked the boys about what kind of sandwiches they wanted when we got home. I had to stop for gas or we probably would not have made it home. Don’t tell my mom, she would worry. She never lets hers gas below a half tank. Never. Ever.

We took 2 cars to church Sunday because Andy had to be there for both services which I could blog alone about our Celebration Sunday, it was amazing. Food for my soul and I would need it because little did I know my kid was going to bust his head 25 minutes later.

We get home. I get Wyatt out. He’s going towards the front door. I get Boone out. And I hear the scream. The scream where you just know something really bad happened. I turn the corner and Wyatt is on the ground holding his head crying uncontrollably. He had tripped and fallen right into the edge {corner} of our concrete step! I started looking to see if he just hit it or cut it and the blood just started pouring…literally pouring out. Uncontrollably. Andy had stopped to talk to a friend so I told him I would just go on and meet him at home. So I was alone. No neighbors were out. I’m in panic mode. My phone was in the car. I was trying to make sure Boone was not running into the street. Wyatt’s face is being covered in blood.

Somewhere in my logical thinking I got the boys in the car and met Andy at the hospital…which being where we live took me less than 7 minutes to get there.

The whole time Wyatt is saying he doesn’t want to get a shot. It wasn’t his head that he was too concerned about but him getting a shot. In those few short minutes from my house to the hospital I was thinking he is losing so much blood {seemed that way at least} and did he do more to his head that we can’t see.

We get there and by this time more blood is all over him…coming down his nose, over his ears, all down his neck, covering his right side of his face. He has it on his clothes. I have it on my clothes in my hair and some on my skin. My baby boy. Oh it makes me want to cry thinking about him being hurt.

Here is the awesome God part. I prayed out loud with Wyatt the whole way there. Praying that God would protect us and him. That God would be with the doctors and people who are going to take care of Wyatt. Just praying because I knew God would have to comfort me. I knew He would meet me in my place of fear.

So we get into the ER and who has God already line up to be there to sign us in…but Sam. Sam is going through Young Life Quest {leadership training} this year. She comes to our house on Wednesday nights and goes deeper in her relationship with the Lord. Whenever I have talked to her she always has a smile and the sweetest, kindest voice you have ever heard. I felt a sense of relief that instant. She calls to the back and lets them know there is a little boy who fell and is badly bleeding.

We didn’t have to wait 5 minutes when the doors opened. And who is the next person God had lined up to care for Wyatt…but Dr. White. My primary doctor! Who is a Christian. Who I didn’t know worked on-call at our local hospital because I go to her in the next town over. I was at peace. I knew Wyatt would be well taken care of and treated with gentleness and patience.

The doctor and nurses cleaned him up. One wash cloth and saline at a time until they found where the blood was directly coming from. By then it had mostly stopped bleeding and instead of stitches they glued him up! No shots. He was thankful and relieved, I could tell. I think it was about a centimeter deep, if I recall, and about an inch long. They did an x-ray on his skull to make sure it had not been fractured. And it wasn’t…praise the Lord.

He was showered with many fun sweets while at the hospital…a sprite/sherbet “float” and a popsicle and a small teddy bear. I’m pretty sure besides the fall and the blood and pain he loved his experience at the ER. He would ask questions about how things worked and why they wore badges. And he thought it was cool there was a policeman there.

Boone was so concerned about his brother. I can’t imagine what his little mind was thinking. When Andy got Boone out of the car at the hospital he said that Boone was saying, “ Daddy, Wyatt bonk head. Daddy, Wyatt bonk head.” His little facial expressions where that of love and concern for Wyatt.

So the big boy is a trooper. I am so serious when I say this, he has not complained one time. Not once. He has been in a happy mood…probably loving the attention and I have loved giving it to him. I was a little hesitant sending him to school. I’m really having the harder time with it, not Wyatt. But he was so excited to be there and told people I have glue in my hair.