First, the facts:
On the evening of November 28th around 8 PM I was holding Delia because she was a little tired and cranky. She was sucking on her pacifier when she decided she wanted to try and sit up, and as the pacifier fell out of her mouth I tried to catch it. But, when I reached for the falling pacifier her little arm came between my arm that held her and my other arm reaching for the pacifier. I heard a little pop and my heart sank. She cried and I knew a fear that I had never known before, that I had broke my beautiful daughter's arm.
We were able to calm her down pretty quickly, and the arm didn't seem to be bothering her. She just wasn't using it to reach for things like she normally would. She was in pretty good spirits, but I just didn't feel right.
So we took her in to the ER. We waited to get her looked at for a few hours while people around us vomited into blue plastic bags they were given by the hospital. Finally we were seen. The doctor manipulated the arm and it did bother Delia. They did x-rays and found that nothing is broken or dislocated. The doctor decided that a splint would be a good idea, just to make sure it heals without her aggravating it. She will get the splint removed on Thursday afternoon. We got home around 1:30 AM.
Delia remains in good spirits and is already rolling and lifting the arm like there isn't anything amiss. Nothing will crush her spirits, not even a gimpy arm.
Second, the feelings:
Initially I was scared. I was so scared that I had seriously injured her arm. If something was seriously wrong I don't know that I ever would have been able to forgive myself.
I was extremely embarrassed. There's nothing that diminishes the confidence of a first time father than hurting your child, even if it was accidental.
But, most of all, I felt like a failure, in combination with being angry at myself. My job as a parent is to protect my child. To keep her safe from danger or injury, to the best of my ability. And, in my mind, that ability was proven to be non-existent when I heard that little pop in Delia's arm. As many times as Maria assured me that it was an accident and I shouldn't be so down on myself, I could not get passed the feeling that I, in one instant, became a terrible father.
Maria was so calm and loving. I think Delia stayed calm because she was (plus her injury wasn't all that bad). But I know it was her patience and positive attitude that prevented me from punching myself in the face.
That is all pretty melodramatic, and I know that I am not a terrible father. I also know that in the long run, this won't be that big a deal. But, this is a first for me, so it feels pretty significant. I still feel guilty when I see her in her little cast. But, I know that I did perform the function of a parent. Yes, it was my actions that caused the injury (I will let the pacifier fall from now on), but I also did what needed to be done to heal our daughter, Maria and I both did. We love her so much that we would have done anything to make sure she was okay, even pay the ER co-pay.
No one will ever be a perfect parent. But it is what one does to correct the mistakes that are made that makes a good parent.
On the plus side, the cast looks a little bad ass. It also reminds me of those little crabs with the one big claw and the little claw, which I think is cute. Regardless of that, I would much rather she not need the cast.
Here is some video of Delia proving that this little cast isn't going to get in the way of rolling around. She is amazing.
