Monday morning started happy in our house. We'd had a good weekend in Missouri, and the house was tidy and ready for a new week. I worked on making Mike a cup of coffee in his travel mug with our new coffee maker, even frothing milk for it. Everyone was still in PJs, me included, and Evie was toddling at my feet, alternating sitting at her toddler sized table and chairs in the kitchen and wandering around jabbering at things as I worked.
The night before when we set up the new coffee pot, I had put the old coffee maker on her little toddler table. Not wanting her to hurt herself with the glass carafe she was inspecting, I bagged up the old pot. I'd finished Mike's coffee but wanted to yet garnish it with some cinnamon - I was being an extra good wife. I stepped out, for just a second to set the old coffee pot away. Not minutes. Seconds.
The scream. I'll hear that sound in my dreams. I hear it now.
It wasn't an "I fell" scream. Not, "I'm stuck, I'm mad, I need help." None of those. I'd never heard anything like it. I'll never forget it.
Mike and I rushed. He got to her first. I couldn't tell what happened but then I saw it. The coffee. All over the floor. Evie was still screaming and Mike was quickly stripping her jammies off. I was frozen. I couldn't think, couldn't act.
In the seconds I wasn't there, Evie pushed her little chair over to the tall coffee bar, stood up in it, saw the travel mug, and, as best we can tell, tried to take a drink. Freshly brewed, scalding hot coffee poured over her tiny little body. Coffee from the mug I had irresponsibly left unattended and unlidded.
Mike told me to get a cold towel. He directed me. He tried to stay calm. He started crying.
Her skin was peeling away and all I could say was, "we have to take her in." He agreed and I finally started moving. Throwing on clothes, instructing and explaining to the other children, grabbing items for the diaper bag, getting a heavy cotton blanket. I called our friend Kathy from church and sobbed as I asked her to come sit with the other children. She said she'd be there in ten minutes and we locked them in, left the oldest two in charge with the ability to call us via their iPads, and left.
The staff at the hospital and in the emergency department was outstanding. We were every bit of the part of the harried, undone, weeping, desperate parents and they handled us well. Our nurse, Chris, was phenomenal and we're forever grateful for how she carefully explained things to us and took tender care of our most precious gift.
After they accessed Evalynn, we started notifying our most immediate family. I called my mom, Mike called his - we both asked that they tell our sisters and dads. Evalynn was still screaming in pain and our anxiety was high. They finally brought in morphine and, once it kicked in, it brought relief from the pain but a sad side of Evalynn that was undone in a different way - not in her right mind. The minutes passed in waves of gingerly passing her back and forth, trying to keep her calm, pausing to check on the big kids, and trying to be braver than we felt.
Evalynn sustained second degree burns on her chest and shoulder and first degree burns on her face, neck, chest, and neck.
After the medication had time to work, the nurse came back to clean and dress the areas. She taught us as she went, and I told my baby how brave and strong she was being as she fought to be all done.
We waited for our discharge instructions, follow up care plan, and prescription information, carefully zipping Evie into a comfy little outfit instead of taking her out in a diaper as we'd brought her in. Why wasn't it midnight? How was it only 10 a.m.?
Grandma Num arrived to relieve Kathy just shortly before we got home and Mike went to the store to get more medical supplies after we got home. Evie was happy to be home, but also very unsteady from the pain medication, and wanting to do so many unsafe things.
Xavier carried the little table and chairs downstairs for me and we updated our families.
There are so many of you who should have found out about this incident first hand. I know you would have been praying, if I'd only asked. Honestly I didn't know what to say. Embarrassed isn't the right word. Ashamed isn't quite it. There is no word to really describe how I'm feeling and why I didn't ask for your prayers until now. My sadness, my regret, at that split second decision I made is just bone deep. I know there's so many of you that will say in love accidents happen, and in my heart I know that's true, but when I'm cleaning and dressing wounds on my baby that were caused by my actions, though not deliberate ones, it's just really hard to get my mind to accept.
Every morning before I get out of bed, I lay there and ask God to stand in my gaps for the day. To give me patience when I am short, energy where I am lacking, and to protect over my children when I'm not there. I am struggling, truth be told. Where were you, God? I needed you. She needed you. My precious, precocious, adventurous little Evalynn needed Your protection, because her mother was careless.
She will heal. And I know God is there because I believe the Bible is true, but sometimes I'm not sure if He hears me anymore. My spiritual strength was shaken during Mia's sickness and I held on, but since then God has been so quiet. Two years where I've felt disconnected.
If you want to pray for our baby, please pray for minimal scarring and a shield against infection. Please pray for her safety from any other incidents, and that she heals from the emotional trauma of what she has suffered.
No comments:
Post a Comment