What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice and everything nice.

... Oh, and ER visits, too.

So I got to spend my first day in an ER today - and it was not with one of my three sons. It was with my little Girly Pie. I've heard many a rumor that girls are docile, calm and still. But not my sweet Girly Pie. She is sweet for sure, and definitely has her daintier qualities. But she is not anywhere near still. She's been a climber since before she could walk, and has given me more than my fair share of scares over the past months of her increasing mobility.

But this morning when she fell and bumped her lip on a small child's bench we keep at our little kid's table, she hardly cried at all, and I never would have thought twice about such a simple stumble.

Except for the fact that there was blood everywhere and her lip had a nasty looking flap of skin hanging off of it.

Looking at it I suspected immediately that it would need something - stitches, skin glue, something like that. I called Mary Grace to confirm my suspicions (I didn't want to be too paranoid, after all lip wounds can look much worse than they really are) and then set to work trying to figure out just what to do.

The really cool thing was that God's hand was all over the day. For a start, my Hubby has Mondays off from field work and he works at home doing phone and office stuff, so I had the flexibility to just go with Girly Pie and not have to worry about who could watch my three boys, or about taking them along and dividing up the attention that I was sure a sad little girl would need fully. And from there, the little twists and turns of the day just led more and more directly to exactly where God knew we needed to go.

Our new insurance is apparently not accepted by our current doctor's office - a fact we just found out this morning when I called to find out if they could squeeze her in for a look. I have never much liked the whole office, and really the only reason we have remained is that it is only 25 minutes away and all the other docs are 40 minutes or more. But I always second guess their thoughts and we never have really been on the same wavelength. So I called my good friend E. who uses the same insurance and has always said wonderful things about their pediatrician. She quickly gave me the number, and off I drove with Girly Pie, waiting on hold on my cell as I headed that direction and going on faith that they would make room for her ASAP. Sure enough, even though the wonderful doc didn't have any openings until 5pm, they made room for Girly Pie right as we arrived at 10am. The new doc was WONDERFUL. I know that I would not have appreciated my old doc's advice as much as Dr. Wonderful's, and he was so sweet with Girly Pie, and so thorough with his exam. He was gentle with her and explained to me the severity of the injury.

Now I will pause in the story here to point out that Girly was not crying during all this time. The fall was minor, the bleeding had stopped, and aside from missing her morning nap, she was really not fazed at all by the whole ordeal of the actual injury. (another small miracle for the day!) So the doc told me all I needed to know, and said that since the cut was on the line between her actual lip and the skin below, and because it was so close to the crack where upper and lower lips meet, it was just a really hard place to stitch up. He saw she did indeed need stitches, but he knew his office was not equipped to do such a delicate job on such a small, and uncooperative, patient.

So we were sent to the Children's Hospital in Seattle, over an hour from our home. He said we could go to others nearer, but that Children’s would be the best equipped to do such a delicate procedure on one so young.

So off we went. Again, this doc's demeanor and his kindness and gentleness with both my girl and this worried momma were so comforting, and I really did trust his opinion. I really see God's hand in the insurance thing sending us away from our other office to this one.

So eventually (after so very much waiting and talking and looking and waiting…) Girly Pie was given a bit of a loopy drug, the name of which eludes me at the moment, to lessen her reaction to being messed with and to make her forget the whole ordeal when it was over. She was definitely happier after the drug - she had been horrified up to that point by anyone even looking at her or taking her pulse, let alone sticking needles in her face! But even with the happy juice, she fought like crazy when they tried to wrap her up in the blanket to do the procedure. She was numb and a little sedated, but still fully conscious - and fully ticked off to be so rudely messed with.

Poor thing.

So as if that wasn't bad enough, after I was finally able to hold her again and calm her down, while she was sucking on a popsicle BOTH of her stitches popped out.

So they had to do it AGAIN.

That is the point at which, as her Mommy, it really got hard for me. I had already told her we were all done, she was in my arms and ready to go. But that wound just opened right back up, and aside from just not wanting her to have a big scar on her face for the rest of her life, I just could not imagine how the healing process would go with such a big, floppy wound.

So I agreed to try it one more time, stating that if these new stitches failed that we were done and she was just meant to have a scar.

So they did it again. They used a heavier gauge suture, and did three stitches instead of two. And she fought even harder.

The hardest part for me though was not so much the fighting and crying. That was actually a good thing. I was glad to see her fighting and not just accepting such abuse. But when she plaintively called out "Mama! MAAAMAAA!" through that second procedure I just about lost it.

I just could not imagine how terrified she was in that moment, her head held down by strangers, bright lights in her face, her lip numb and her body reacting to a strange drug in her system that made her feel out of control. And when she called for the one person she trusts most in the world to help her - I couldn't. I couldn't help her, and I couldn’t stop the fear.

I just talked to her all through it and stroked and held what parts of her little body I could without disturbing the doctors, and I prayed like crazy. I prayed that God would give her peace and not let this be a scarring event in her life - emotionally, I mean. I could care less about the physical scar compared to that. And I prayed that she really would just forget the whole thing, and that it wouldn't be something that would really affect her as she grows.

So finally, long past when I ached to hold her, they finished the last stitch and I got to pick up my frightened, sweaty, exhausted little girl. And she really did calm down quickly. She did not like any of the hospital folks after that, though I can hardly blame her. But she was happy to be in my arms, and we went home shortly thereafter.

Girly Pie was asleep before we even got out of the parking lot, and slept like a rock for the whole hour + ride home. The poor girl had missed her usual naps and hadn't eaten since her very meager breakfast at 7:30 this morning. We left the ER at 3 in the afternoon.

But when she woke up, she was happy and snuggly and ready to get up and get to playing at home. She still wants to grab at her lip, which we of course are not supposed to let her do, but she is eating fine and as far as I can tell is not feeling any pain from the whole incident.

And though I can't tell for sure, I feel like my prayers really were answered, and Girly Pie seems to have forgotten the trauma of the ER today already. She has not been overly clingy or fearful, and she really has been her same old, adventurous self all evening. She has already given us several scares from climbing and trying to fall. I'm not super thrilled about the scares, but it's still a good sign that she's feeling like herself.

Sigh.

So that was my day. I had big plans for a mellow day at home, a bit of school and tidying up, maybe a trip to a park after her nap. But God had other plans for our day.

And really, aside from the pain of watching her through that second procedure as she called for me - and thinking about just how terrified and awful she was feeling in that moment - through the whole day I was so aware of God's gifts for the day. I never had those thoughts of "If only she hadn't fallen!" I was so focused on being thankful that God had everything under control. The day was crazy, there were such hard moments, and nothing went as smoothly as it could have. But the trouble with the doc's office ended up being a blessing. And the doc not being able to do the stitching was a blessing too. Can you imagine if they had tried in the office and failed? It would have been even more traumatic there, and then we would have had to go to the hospital in the end anyway, since the stitches clearly needed to be done in such a special way. And what if we had gone to our old doc and they had tried to do a less-than-the-best fix for her? I was just so thankful that God paved the whole day to get my girl, His girl, where she needed to go for the best care.

So today really was such a good reminder to me that stuff happens in life. There are no promises that we'll be protected from hardships. But God does make a way to get you through those hard times, and he makes sure you are carried safely to the other side.

Romans 8:28
And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him... (emphasis mine)

So today was a much needed perspective check, and I feel firmly kicked out of my little cave of worry over the things to come. I've been stuck here in neutral for a few weeks, wondering how to do all that I have to do, and feeling overwhelmed by all I feel I must do. But in all that, I lost sight of God's power to carry me through any hard times to come, and I lost focus on the gifts and blessings he has blessed me with along the way.

As our pastor recently said powerfully in a message about the young David in the Bible before he was king - I was like the other Israelites, focusing on the Giant - unlike David, who put his focus on the Giant Killer - God.

So today I am happily, joyfully, thankfully back where I belong. My eyes are on my Giant Killer. The giants of my life - the duties, the fears, the sensory disorders, the responsibilities, the worries of failing those I love the most – will no longer receive my utmost attention. God, the defender of us all, the slayer of all of life's Giants, is where my eyes are pointed once again.

And I never would have thought He would remind me of that simple truth by walking me through a day of trauma and pain in my baby girl's life. But He does indeed work in mysterious ways. And my baby is safe and happy and sleeping soundly in her bed.

I have nothing in the whole world to complain about. I have only thanks to give this night.