Slammed door, broken finger, stitches, and meditation

Guin & Willow,

Today was a really rough day.  Three hours in the emergency room, a broken finger and six stitches.  And I am so proud of both of you.

I got home from work today as Daddy and a friend were bottling the latest batch of beer.  We were chatting in the kitchen while you guys were playing.  You chase each other often, so I didn't think much of it as you both ran into the bathroom and I heard the door slam.

You've been told a million billion times not to slam doors.  We've made you stand and practice opening and closing the doors the correct way until you just can't stand it anymore.  I'm certain I've said "you're going to smash someone's fingers in the door" about a hundred and seven times.  So it wasn't surprising when I heard Guin's scream immediately after the slamming of the door.  But it wasn't a "mom, Willow made me mad" scream, it was a "something is horribly wrong" scream.

Guin, it took about two seconds for me to look at your poor bloody finger to know we needed to go to the hospital.  I scooped you up in my arms and did my best not to completely freak out.  I wrapped your hand in a towel with ice, put you in the car without even grabbing your shoes, and tried to figure out what emergency room we were going to.

Willow, the look on your face when you saw how worried I was said it all.  I asked Daddy not to discipline you for slamming the door because of that look on your face.  We didn't need to tell you what you had done wrong.  You were on the verge of tears and rode in silence all the way to the hospital.

Even though it was about 15 minutes away and there were two hospitals that were closer to us, we went to children's hospital, and I'm so glad we did.  The doctors were great, and they made the entire experience so much better for all of us.  After looking at your poor little finger to see what the damage was, they came in to give you a numbing shot so they could clean it up without it hurting.  You were so brave, and I can't begin to tell you how horrible it was to hold you in my lap while you screamed in pain from the anesthesia.  I've watched you cry during shots before and it broke my heart, but this was horrible for you, and I cried along with you.

You immediately felt relief from the pain after that though, and you were such a big girl sitting still for your x-ray and waiting patiently for the doctors to come in for your stitches.  You became very nervous as the doctors showed us your x-ray of the break in your finger and started talking about stitches.  It still hurt you when they were washing your finger up, and what you did made me the proudest mama ever - you closed your eyes, and breathed with all of your might.  You stayed in control of your breath, and stayed in control of your body.  Most adults have a hard time doing that - and there you were, strong as can be, breathing through what had to have been so, so scary for you.

They moved you to the child sized table to start your stitches, and you let your nervousness come over you.  You kept looking at your poor swollen finger and looking nauseous, so I held your other hand and asked you to close your eyes.  As they started the stitches, you tuned into your breath, and we meditated together. I talked you through imagining a walk on the beach - the sand on your toes, the water on your legs, even a picnic lunch with a tuna sandwich and lemonade.  It only took about 5 minutes for them to put your six stitches in, and even though you could feel it, you stayed so focused and calm.  The doctor said how incredibly impressed with you she was.  I cried a little again, because I was in awe of you.  I know we do yoga and practice meditations for fun, but today showed me that they are teaching you real life skills.  You knew just how to use your tools when you needed them.

Willow, I have never seen you sit so respectfully and quietly for such a long time.  You played puzzles on Daddy's phone, and occasionally came over to comfort your sister.  You admitted to every doctor who came in the room that it was in fact you who slammed your sister's finger in the door, and that you were sorry.  It was beautiful to see you discover your own strength and power, and how much you love your sister sure came through.  

I am so, so proud of both of you.  And I'd say if we've made it 5 and a half years without a trip to the emergency room for stitches, we've done pretty good.  Here's hoping we can make it at least that long again.

Love,
Mom