So we now know that Christina must go to Children's hospital after they do a CT scan and find blood on her brain. The guilt just shot through me. At that point, we don't know the quantity or anything, we are told she needs to go to Children's because they are specialized on this subject. Now, I cannot react to much, as Catherine is now with us and any type of bad reaction (i.e. crying, getting upset) I know will affect her. We tell her that Christina needs to go in the ambulance to another hospital to make sure everything is OK. Inside me, I want to die. Literally.
So they get Christina ready for the ambulance ride by putting in a line for an IV "in case". Again, my heart sinks. If you know my Christina, she is a little pudgy baby so finding a vein is hard. So I take Catherine for a walk after the first scream and cry from Christina. I walk her around the ER and outside the hospital. I can hear Christina yell and scream and cry anywhere we go. Catherine is asking tons of questions and I try to answer her:
Catherine: "Will we go in the ambulance? "
Me: "No"
Catherine: "Why?"
Me: "Because there isn't enough space but we will drive there in my car?"
Catherine: "Is she OK?"
Me: "She'll be OK. It is a great hospital." Inside, I am feeling like the biggest failure in the world.
Well, we walk around for what felt like 2 hours. It was about 20 minutes. Christina is screaming bloody murder.
Catherine: "Are they hurting Christina?"
Me: "No, they are trying to make sure she'll be OK." In my head, I'm thinking IV=bad news.
Catherine: "I want to go see her."
Me: "Let's wait"
We finally go in and hey got the IV in. Christina smiles at me and her sister...but inside I still feel horrible. Christina, through all this, seems to get back to her normal self, appearing tired but smiling and wanting to nurse. She was doing much better but I certainly was getting worse.
We bring the car seat to the stretcher. And if you have ever seen that site, it makes you sad. It did for me. We kiss Christina and my wife and we get ready to go to my car. Catherine is crying, wanting to be with her sister. I am so proud she cares so much for her sister and I want to punish myself for putting both of them through this stuff.
We get to the car and get ready to drive. I get some DD for us, Catherine forgetting a little what was going on, enjoying her munchkins. I call my mom and cry like a little baby on the phone. My mom could not understand me for the first few minutes. My mom, the great coach that she is, reminds me that I need to stay strong for everyone. She makes me feel OK about this incident for a few minutes and the pep talks works.
We drive to Boston, Catherine falls asleep on the way. In my head, I am going through many scenarios, including long-term hospitalization, brain trauma injury, and anything else in between. I also worry about telling others, feeling ashamed and embarrassed, even letting a good friend at work know: "Don't tell anyone about this". I finally proved that I was a bad parent.
We get to the ER and she is in the "neurological" ER room. We wait for about an hour. We try to keep everyone entertain, playing peekaboo and playing with the toys in their diaper bag, as well as a toy the ER staff provided. We also get some food. Catherine gets the food with me and we see cool things, like fish, a ball display, a waterfall. Catherine is getting tired and struggling. This whole incident has probably had an effect on her. I decide to post a little note about Christina on Facebook, after my wife did so. I am feeling embarassed but I figured I would let people know. Maybe their comforting would help me. The doctor finally comes in and without really looking at Christina, he says: "We'll keep her overnight". Panicked, I start asking questions:
Me: "How much blood is on the brain?"
Dr. "Just a little but it is procedure to keep them overnight."
Me: "Is there any other damage?"
Dr.: "There is no concussion or cracked skull"
Me: "How long will she be here?"
Dr.: "If nothing changes in her behavior, she will be discharged tomorrow. We feel like it is better to keep her here than if she starts throwing up or any other negative symptoms and have you drive back all the way to Boston."
My instinct is that this is my mistake I should stay. My wonderful talks some sense to me and lets me know that I cannot nurse Christina. I drive back with Catherine to our home, and on the way, I ask Catherine if she has any questions and let her process everything. On the drive home, as I answer some Catherine questions, my head and my heart are racing and I am feeling like the worse person in the world.
As I put Catherine to bed, I hold her really tight, and try to keep my head from exploding. I stay with her until she falls asleep. As I stay up late, I am happy a friend called and checked on me and asked me how I was doing. I hold back my true feelings. I go to bed, the bed feeling really big, the house feeling empty without Christina and my wife. I sleep a couple of hours, if that, my head racing, reliving the exact moment I dropped my Christina and unable to take those images and sounds out of my head. I think I am losing my mind.
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