Stitches

Well, we had our first trip to the emergency room this weekend for L. From what I hear from other parents - the first of many with a little boy. Ugh, this is not something I want to experience a lot. Aside from the blood and the gash in his little head, the 5 hour wait in the ER is no party. When it finally came time to get his stitches, the PA explained what he would do. He explained how the nurses would restrain him and that he would cry not because it hurt but because of being restrained. It reminded me of when he was a baby and he was a bit jaundice. They had to prick the bottom of his little foot and press blood into this small vile to test his biliruben levels. I had to hold him him down while the nurse did this and he was only 3 days old. He was not a happy camper and he looked straight at me as if to say, "I came out into the world for this!???!"

So, this time they wrapped him in this sheet. The nurse told him it would be like a sleeping bag. Great, so, now I just hope this won't affect sleepovers for the rest of his life! Anyway, they wrap him up in this sheet, lay him down and 2 nurses come in - one to hold his body and the other his head so the PA can stitch him up. The screaming begins... " This scares me!" " I don't like this!" "Mom, make it stop!" Oh gosh, just pull at a mother's heart why don't you? I tell him, "I would love to make it stop, sweet one but this is what is best for you right now. I want them to do this so they can fix the big boo boo on your head." The PA cleans out the wound and stitches him up carefully . Of course,we want the least amount of scarring like it never happened. The guy tells us, "There will be scarring." It will be minimal, but it will always be there. " A slight rememberance of this mishap in his life.

So, I got to thinking about this later. I do this a lot - seemingly normal things as a mom remind me of God. How many wounds have I had in my life that needed healing while God held me? Wounds from my childhood, teenage years and even some more recently as an adult. It's like a wound is still open, but I just bandaged over it and coped the best I could, too fragile to let the wound be exposed and cleaned out. The coping mechanism becomes like an ugly infection that needs to be taken care of and no longer can I ignore the wound. Taking the "bandage" off and exposing an old wound can be a painful but necessary task. It hurts and like my son, I cry out in fear, "Make it stop!" But just like I was holding my little guy, God holds me and says, " I would love to make it stop, sweet one, but this is what is best for you right now. We gotta expose this wound, deal with it and move on!" So, I hang on tight, dealing with my old wound and let God lead me through the healing. There may be minimal scarring on my soul but only a slight rememberance of a mishap in life. ...and by his wounds we are healed.