trauma drama

They were right (whoever they were)... Being a parent is hard. That got put to the test tonight at a wedding reception, when Ivy fell backwards off a bench and smacked her head on the cement floor. First the crying, and me grabbing her as fast as I can move. Moving to the kitchen to find some ice. Feeling the monster-sized lump on the back of her head, and finally seeing it. It was ghastly. Purple. Blood. Panic mode. Guilt. Adrenaline. Of course we're in the middle of fucking nowhere, so we weren't exactly sure where the closest hospital was other than St. Cloud. After the crying, Ivy seemed fine in the car. Pretty much normal, which made me feel slightly better. Longest trip ever to St. Cloud. Emergency Room. An hour in the waiting room. Everything is fine. Doctors are wonderful people, and they always make you feel reassured. We just have to watch her for any signs of unusual behavior, vomiting, etc. I'm supposed to wake her up in the middle of the night to check on her once. And have a follow up dr. visit this week. It's one of the most terrifying experiences. Absolutely. I think I'm staying away from weddings for a while.