Just typing the title brings tears to my eyes. I have to pause before I can type again.
Breathe in, and breathe out.
It started off like any other Summer Saturday. We all slept in, the coffee was brewed, my husband took his coffee and the paper to the backyard. Gabriel and the dog, Arlo, followed. I lagged behind a little, grabbed a magazine after setting my coffee down on the bar counter in the tv room.
Deep breathe, and out. Slowly.
I heard it...Just typing that makes me fold my hands in prayer and I operate as an agnostic. Michael must have dropped a patio chair, maybe one of the gardening tools came down. I was still inside the house. I heard it...
Michael yelled my name. It hadn't occurred to me, how could it. I wasn't afraid. I walked outside.
My baby was on the concrete. On his back. Not moving. A broken arm I told myself. We have our first break.
Deep breathe, and release. Slowly.
"Get the keys" my nurse husband said. He had fear in his voice. This was not a break. My husband grew up sewing wounds with fishing line and pulling bullets from friends. This was not a broken arm. His tone told me so.
We live 10 minutes from Southwest Hospital. It made no sense to wait for an ambulance. We'd be at the ER before they arrived.
I grabbed my keys. I don't remember letting the dog back in, but somehow we did. Gabriel. My baby. He wasn't moving. He wasn't responding.
The noise...the noise...the noise was his head hitting the concrete path in our back yard. His head hitting the concrete path...in our backyard. He was playing with the dog. They collided. He flipped. He landed on his head. The noise...
Breathe. In and out. Deep Breathe and Exhale.
I didn't stop at any lights on the main road. The police could ticket me in the ER parking lot. I beeped as I ran one, then two, then three red lights.
Breathe. In and out.
Thoughts raced in my head. What if... What if... What if... I can't type the thoughts.
Breathe...he's still not moving...in and out.
What's that noise? Gabriel. He spoke. He had heard the horn.
Michael rushed him in ER while I parked.
I ran in. Security was waiting for me. Please walk, don't fall. He's in here. He was a dad, I knew he was. He had to be, he read the anguish on my face and the thoughts in my mind.
My husband was watching as every ER doctor and nurse on duty surrounded our son. He looked so tiny. I watched from the entrance to the room.
My husband's fists were clenching and his arms still. He didn't know how to be in ER and not be a nurse. He didn't know how to be a dad and not be a nurse. Not helping, not leading the people just like him caring for our son. He did way better than I would have in his shoes.
Actually, he was barefoot. They kept trying to get him to put the hospital slippers on his feet. It took awhile to register what he was holding in his hands.
He's moving all limbs the nurse said as she turned around to face us. She was a mom, she read my face. Come on, she said and called me to the bed. She knew I wouldn't believe it until I saw for myself.
He squeezed my hand, he moved his feet. Why are you crying, mommy?
Gabriel has no recollection of this event. The doctor's said he probably wouldn't.
But as the weather changes... Gabriel and his dog are playing outside today.
I remember. Deep breathes, and exhale. Slowly.
Mom, mom, I need 4 straws and a beaker. Gabriel we don't have a beaker. Mom, hurry! I hand him 4 straws and as he runs back outside, he shouts behind him, mom, Arlo is waiting by the door for me. He loves me.
Deep breathes, and exhale.
I can't hold his hand forever. But I do wish I could.
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