Eleven

I'm on a major backlog.  Pippa has already turned one and here I am trying to pretend like she just turned eleven-months-old.  I don't think I'm even going to pretend.  Instead I'll just tell the story about her first visit to the ER (which happened days before she turned eleven-months).

We finally decided it was time to move in together as a family - and that the kids and I would move down to Oregon where Wyatt's job is (in our own home - not Wyatt's parent's basement).  It was our moving day.  Wyatt made arrangements for help at our house in Seattle as well as help at our new home.  It was nice.  There was a huge turnout in Seattle; so much help that there was backup when it came getting the furniture into the truck.  Nice!  Wyatt's mom, Katharine, was in town helping with the kids - though Ro was occupied with the neighbor kids - Mickey and Selam.  We were 85-percent ready to move when someone didn't want to be left inside the house alone and tried her hand at descending the outside cement steps...in her walker.  She wasn't successful.  I was talking to my neighbor Azeb outside when I heard some grunting.  Which I noticed but didn't register...until I heard a crash!  Pippa had fallen down the stairs!  

Ro with his two buddies, Selam and Mickey, on moving day

Everyone rushed over to help.  Pippa had blood all over her nose and upper lip.  And the blood was fresh enough that you could see a major cut in the "trough" of her nose.  Pippa just cried and cried and cried and screamed.  I felt like a really crappy parent for leaving the door open and not checking on her when I heard the grunting.  I know her.  I know that she can pick her walker up and walk over a barrier.  Still, it didn't click.  Wyatt held her while I called the local urgent care, who reluctantly said they'd see her.  It was decided that Wyatt and Ro would pack the rest of the big things in the moving truck and head to Oregon.  They needed to be there by 3pm to meet the volunteer movers.  Then Katharine and I would take Pippa to the urgent care.  

On a scale from 1-10, what kind of mom am I to take a smiling selfie with my injured daughter?

What a task!  Lucky for us, once we got Pippa in her car seat and drove for a bit, she calmed down and fell right asleep.  We first drove to her doctor's office but they were closed for lunch.  Then we drove to the urgent care we spoke with on the phone but they turned us away, saying they weren't fit to care for babies.  So they referred us to the children's urgent care in Federal Way.  They did a short exam and determined Pippa would need stitches but they don't provide anesthetic...so they referred us to the ER at the Children's Hospital in Tacoma.  So...we made the trek south.  

Hanging out in the waiting area of the ER with Goombaw

By the time we made it to the ER, Pippa's wound had scabbed over (like multiple layers of scabbage).  I'm not exaggerating when I say there were two other patients in the waiting room waiting when we arrived.  But I think they didn't feel the urgency of her wounds and gave us the non-urgent care.  We watched patient after patient arrive at the ER and be invited to see a doctor before it was ever our turn.  We arrived just after 2pm and didn't see the doctor until 5:30pm.  Argh.  The resident did the initial exam and determined she might need a couple stitches after he washed away the scabs and could see a little bit of the cut.  That's when we got the go for her to eat.  Poor starving baby.  

Pippa on drugs

I asked the nurse if I could request the attending doctor to perform the surgery.  Seeing that the wound was on Pippa's face, I wanted to ensure the scaring would be as minimal as possible.  A higher chance of it happening with an experienced doctor.  The nurse gave Pippa the anesthetic and local anesthetic.  It was the cutest thing!  Pippa was so loopy!  She'd laugh and giggle and laugh.  I took video even though the sign said not to.  When the stitching crew came in, they swaddled Pippa in a blankie to prevent her from flailing her arms.  It seemed like there was no need because Pippa just laid there, staring up at the doctor, watching him as he worked.  Which, incidentally, as he wiped her wound clean more and more, he realized her cuts were far worse than originally diagnosed.  She had a "cross" cut - one in the trough of her lip and one perpendicular were her nose meets her lip.  Which as it turns out, was the trickiest one to stitch, since it was a 90-degree angle and tricky to get the right angle to stitch her nose to her face.  I felt vindicated.  I knew it was worse than everyone believed it was!  She ended up getting more than a few stitches...  It was more like four or five.  But she was a trooper.

Pre-accident picture

Pippa really was the perfect little patient.  She didn't fuss too much, which was really quite incredible since she nursed at 11am and didn't get to eat again until 6pm (the accident happened at 12pm).  I know she was hungry but she did a great job of keeping her cool.  And I know she was exhausted since she barely slept a wink the entire time we were running around from doctor to doctor.  Aside from the wailing immediately after the accident, she really was a happy little camper.  Which was a tender mercy for sure.  I cannot imagine going through that experience with anything less.  It already sucked as it was - even with a sweet little baby and a supportive MIL.

Pre-accident picture

We didn't leave the hospital until 7pm.  Pippa fell asleep nearly immediately after we got in the car.  Both Katharine and I were starving, so we stopped at Cafe Rio for food to-go, and ate in our car while Pippa slept...  And slept... And slept...  Then we had to return to my house to pack-up loose-ends.  Which, as it turns out, was quite tricky.  More stuff was leftover than I thought and almost didn't make it into Wyatt's truck or my car.  Oh, and thanks to our next door neighbors who packed-up the last bit of odds-n-ends and cleaning the last bit while we were out addressing Pippa's accident!  By the time we finished-up and backed from our driveway, it was 9pm.  It was a looooooong drive to our new home.  Katharine drove Wyatt's truck to her house and Pippa and I drove my car to our new house.  We didn't roll in the driveway until midnight.  That was the first time I had ever stepped foot in our new home.  It was a long day.

It took a couple of weeks for Pippa's eyesore scab to go away completely.  It's funny how many people would obviously notice her sore but not say a word.  I guess they were trying to be polite.  In some ways I wish they'd just say something.  A Hispanic man at the grocery store did notice and did say something.  Something along the lines of, "poor baby!"  Funny how I appreciated that more than the awkward silence.  I'm going to chalk that up to culture.  

Pre-accident picture

Pippa hardly seemed phased by the whole incident.  Aside from the actual accident and pain I'm sure she felt, she seems perfectly happy.  Now there is a bit of redness left on the scar - which itself, looks pretty faint.  I think once the redness goes away (which I hear can take months) it'll hardly be noticeable.  Which is exactly what were are all hoping for.  What a trooper!  We sure love our thrill-seeking little girl!

Saying goodbye to good friends

In other events, we went to Oregon before we moved, for Halloween.  Ro was a donut, very fitting for the boy.  Pippa was a hotdog.  And Wyatt and I were the bakers/makers.  We also asked our SIL to take our family pictures.  It was the perfect day for the activity - sunny...and during the golden hour.  So everything looks dreamy.  I snapped my own dreamy picture of the river the day before.  

And then we celebrated Thanksgiving.  Pippa dressed up as a turkey.  And Ro loved playing with his "Colorado Wilson" cousins.  He was nearly in heaven.  

Onto Christmas...