Or “why Daddy is a complete numbskull”
So Max woke up at about 5 am Sunday (factoring in the time change), and I was on diaper detail. I stumbled through changing him and knowing he was up for the morning, dressing him fell to me. I thought “gee, he’s about to outgrow those great outfits that my friend Mary sent us, so we need to get one more day of wear out of them so that I can send her some pictures.” So I wedged him into the white one and took him into my wife so that he could eat. Now, at 6 weeks old, he’s starting to graduate into the 3-6 month outfits that we have. At this rate, he’s going to be 28 lbs by 6 months.
Bec and I had some coffee (ah, sweet, wonderful coffee. I’m so glad that I’ve started drinking it again…), and Max went down for the first of what were sure to be several naps. The camera needed a charge so I decided to wait on the pictures. It’s now 9 am, and he’s been asleep for a while, and I remembered that I needed to trim his nails since he scratched himself the night before. He was starting to wake up, but I figured I could get at least one hand done before he started fussing. So while Bec was upstairs, I got out the clippers.
I got through most of his fingers before disaster struck. While I was clipping the nail on his right ring finger, he flinched. Normally, that wouldn’t be a problem, but he moved just as I was clipping the nail and basically stuck his fingertip into the blades of the clipper. So, there’s my boy, now minus a fingertip and screaming in horrific pain. Bec ran downstairs still dripping from the shower and asked what happened while I was trying to apologize to Max for maiming him for life.
We quickly figured out that it wasn’t a huge cut, but it was deep. I basically cut the round part of the finger directly below the nail, which of course is pretty useful when you want to feel anything or press a button. I cut it cleanly, so there wasn’t anything to sew or glue shut. We stopped freaking out about the size of the cut pretty quickly and focused on stopping the bleeding. After he soaked through a paper towel, we resorted to gauze and went through 6 pads over the next hour. We also used cans of pop to try to restrict the blood vessels, and there was blood everywhere, including on him and us. An hour and a half later it was still bleeding, so we called the doctor who told us to go to the hospital. In the meantime, he’d slept for about half an hour and eaten again, so he wasn’t really distressed at all, although his parents were. So into the car seat he went.
Driving down Lakeshore Drive (we live in Chicago) at 11 am wasn’t bad, especially since Max was asleep within 5 minutes of getting in the car. Thankfully, the emergency room at Children’s Memorial was pretty much empty, so they saw us pretty much right away – note: when taking a bleeding child to the ER, make it a point to sit next to the other bleeding kids, not the sick ones. Over 20 minutes, we saw 3 nurses and 3 doctors who all told us that he just needed the wound cleaned since the pressure dressing that they put on in the first 5 minutes did the trick. Needless to say, the freak-out factor dialed back considerably during our stay, although Daddy was still feeling pretty stupid and guilty. The suggestion for the use of a nail file in the future was heeded immediately (a suggestion made by all 6 healthcare professionals, mind you), as demonstrated by the purchase of one such device on the trip home. Max got the award for “Smiliest Baby in the ER” for the morning, and we were out of there an hour after we drove up.
So, that great white outfit that my friend sent us? Blood spattered. The other one? Too small. The camera was done charging by the time we got home, but somehow I didn’t think anyone would appreciate pictures of Mr. 9 Fingers looking like he just lost a fight. On the up side, they weighed him while we were at the ER, and he’s well over 12 lbs now, which is a huge gain considering he was 7 lbs 10 oz at birth 6 weeks ago.
I had great intentions over the weekend, but considering my attempt to maim my son fell flat, I hope that you’ll accept my word that both outfits were horrendously cute. Apparently the blood is out, but given the circumstances of the last day or so, I’m not exactly hell-bent on getting him back into either of them given my performance as a father over the last few days.
The point of this thread: files, not clippers.
