When my oldest son Carter was three years old, he broke his leg. Until that moment, my mothering experience had existed well within the confines of the baby books…sleep deprivation, diaper rash, the occassional cold. The broken leg brought me to a new place in my parenting–what do you do when, despite your very best efforts, things do not go as planned?
The essay, called “Break”, is up at Literary Mama, here.
There have been 4 breaks in my family, all arms: 1 for Nathaniel at 3 on Labor Day when he went to the carnival and rode the dragon roller coaster before any of us knew that his arm was actually broken, and 3 for Serena all at the left elbow, 2 within 6 months of one another, which must mean something but I don’t yet know what.
I really had no clue about broken bones. Growing up, we did stitches. I split open my chin in exactly the same place three times, I think.
But still, being the child and being the mother are very different things. I don’t know that I would have been any better prepared to handle stitches…
I was once in an emergency room when a boy next to me was getting stitched up. It was nasty.
The essay is lovely. And I like the new banner picture on your site a lot too. Very spring like, hopeful.
Oh Jennifer — that was a harrowing read!!! I just sent the link to a friend of mine whose husband accidentally broke their 2-year old’s leg playing with her on a trike (her leg got caught up in the pedal and he didn’t realize it and pushed her down a small hill).
(And BTW, I am gonna hit you up for editing help — thank you for offering!)
We have never had broken bones but lots of bad bumps and bruises…loved reading your essay…what a way with words.
HUGS!
I was going to go to bed, but then I started reading your essay and couldn’t stop. Lovely!
I really enjoyed your essay. It was beautiful. Thank you!