Comforting Isabella

Comforting Isabella

O, my prophetic soul! No sooner had I written about my inability to protect Isabella from the slings and arrows of this fallen world than she falls and receives the worst cut she’s yet had. No, it wasn’t a major injury. No stitches needed, despite her mother’s first terrified fears. Just another injury to add to the growing catalogue of hurts that come with learning how to get around in the world.

This is what happened: Dom went in later than usual this morning (after a late night cheering on the victorious Sox) and so worked late tonight. I was feeling rather crummy by the time he came home so we went out for burritos and saved my meal plan for another night. Bella enjoyed snacking on bits of my burrito but as we were gathering our things to leave, she fell off the ledge she’d climbed up on and split her chin open and jarred her teeth against her lip.

It was a nasty slice on the chin and bled quite a bit. Dom ran to the pharmacy next door to get some bandaids while I tried to determine the extent of her injuries, to find the source of the blood in her mouth, to apply pressure to the gash in her chin with a napkin,  and soothe her frantic screams of pain. She was none too pleased with the bandaid once we applied it and tried to pick it off, howling all the way home in the car. It didn’t help that it was almost bedtime, hurts are always harder when you’re tired. I tried to hold her hand as we drove; but I’m not sure it gave her much comfort.

Once home, I held her and rocked her and we dosed her with Tylenol and Benadryl. Then I blessed her with the holy water after she fished the bottle out of the chair’s pocket. I guess she felt she needed a little spiritual comfort too. It certainly made me feel a little better to be able to perform that office for her, praying over her and asking Jesus who healed all manner of ills in his time on earth to bring her some comfort.

Then I read her Goodnight Moon and finally popped her in the bath where she listlessly played with her favorite shark toy (she calls it”fishy”). Though she protested at first, I was afraid if we skipped her usual bath it might be even more distressing to her.

She fell fast asleep in my arms, snuggled warmly in her fleecy pajamas and clutching her stuffed pig to her cheek, before we even finished with bedtime prayers. Once asleep, the pain melted away and her face resumed that usual blissful calm it has always had in sleep. Only the bandaid on her chin reminded me that all was not well as I laid her in her crib and tucked the blankets around Isabella and her much-loved stuffed piggy. I kissed her and made a final sign of the cross on her forehead and asked her guardian angel to watch over her while she slept, as I always do.

Oh my dear girl, so many cuts and scrapes and bruises to get through in the coming years! It almost breaks my heart to think of all the hurts that await you, some of which will not be so easy to bandage and soothe.

Morning Update:

She woke up at her usual time of 7:45 in a wonderful mood. Except for the bandaid on her chin, you wouldn’t know she’d been hurt last night. Kids are so wonderfully resilient.

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