Last week, in the middle of the night, Middle Daughter dreamed she was being taunted by some guy so she struck out and punched him – hitting her nightstand which held a small water glass. Without waking up, she rolled over and kept sleeping. Her fiancé dreamed he heard glass breaking and awoke to find their bed sheets doused with blood. The water glass had broken and cut Middle Daughter’s hand pretty badly.
Fiancé woke me up to say he was taking Middle Daughter to the ER. After helping her wash away the blood and clean the wound a bit, I was pretty sure he was right and stitches would be needed, but I didn’t think ER was necessary. They both prepared to go out while I looked online for the earliest-opening urgent care center in our area. Within a few hours they were gone and back with six stitches in Middle Daughter’s hand.
I’m glad I was there when this happened since I do have some experience with kids and injuries, but it was eye-opening to me, and a reminder of my children’s lessening need for me, that there was no question about who would accompany Middle Daughter to her medical appointment. It wasn’t me, the mom who has taken her to many, many, many medical appointments, procedures, and rechecks over the past twenty-two years. Instead, it was Fiancé who will, undoubtedly, accompany her to many, many more medical appointments over the course of their lifetime together.
Another baton has been passed.