We headed to the Mullet Festival (a Mullet is a type of fish...although we DID see some mullet hair-do's as well...) on Saturday evening, to enjoy arts and crafts vendors, live music, yummy food and the gorgeous weather.  We had a great time while we were there and there will be a post coming with pictures from our Mullet Festival adventure.

But today, I wanted to share Ezra's 2011 Mullet Festival story.  Because, he had his first trip to the ER.  Poor little man.  

We had eaten our greasy, delicious, fried goodness for dinner, walked around the streets, and stood and listened to the live entertainment, when it started to get dark and the babes began to get restless and sleepy.  So we decided to head the few blocks back to our car and go home.  We parted ways with Mark and Amy, our festival-going buddies, and continued towards our car, coming up to the Highway that we needed to cross in order to reach our vehicle.  It was dark at this point, there was no definitive crosswalk for blocks and the highway was semi-busy.  So we waited for the light to turn, watched the cars stop and then stepped off the curb.  Max and I were each pushing a babe in small umbrella strollers (we find that it is easier to navigate crowds with those, than with the big, behemouth double stroller!) and we began jogging across the highway, trying to make sure we made it in time - we were nervous about cars not seeing us and just wanted to get across safely!  I was a few steps behind Max and we were almost to the curb, when I saw Ezzy's stroller go lurching forward out of Max's hands.  The stroller tipped all the way forward, Max leaped up and over it, and little baby items flew everywhere on the sidewalk.  I raced the few feet onto the sidewalk, made sure L's stroller was secure and rushed to pick up the fallen stroller, hearing Ezra screaming his little head off, which made me at least know he hadn't been knocked unconscious.  Max was exclaiming (I think he is STILL shook up from this) and running around picking up all of our spilled items, while I did a quick check on Z before unstrapping him and pulling him from his stroller to hold him and survey the damage.

The stroller had hit a rock or bump or the edge of the curb.  And had lurched forward.  It happens once in awhile.  And because we were so focused on getting across the street, it had lurched REALLY far forward, out of Max's hands.  The stroller had fallen all the way down, with Ezra completely face-down.  A few things to take note of - I am in complete and utter thanks to God for the following: that Max did not fall straight down onto the stroller and Ezra, but rather, he managed to leap over the entire thing; that we had just made it to the curb when it happened and it wasn't in the middle of the road where cars may have started whizzing by (there were not many streetlights around); that Ezra was tightly strapped into his stroller (I mean, we always strap the babies in, but STILL!); and that the only damage done was superficial.  Praise the Lord. 

So, back to me pulling Ezra out of the stroller.  He was crying and moving all around (which clued me into the fact that it was ok to pull him out), so I unstrap him and he clings to me.  I couldn't see anything (remember, there were not many streetlights around!), so as Max is picking up our belongings, grabbing strollers (and L), I rush over to a light, so I can look Ezra over.  There was blood streaming from his mouth and he kept putting his hands to his lips, causing blood to be smeared all over his hands and face.  From what I saw though, it was his mouth and his fingers that had gotten hit.  His head and face looked ok.  His right hand was a bit smashed up and his middle fingernail was bloody, purple and hanging by the corner.  I tried my best to keep it still and away from his face.  But the biggest thing was that he just wanted to be held and reassured that he was ok and safe. 

We quickly decided that we would head directly to the ER to get him checked out and his finger dealt with.  We wanted to be sure he hadn't hit his head and we knew his little hands needed more help than we could give him!  We rushed the remaining blocks to the car, loaded in - we tried wiping some blood off and put a bandaid (thank you first aid kit) on his finger, to prevent further nail tearing - and got on the road to the hospital.  Thus began our adventurous Saturday night at the ER.  

We seriously have the best of friends.  First, Mark and Amy came to the hospital, picked up L, her carseat and our keys, and took her home to go to bed.  Such a huge help, knowing she could go rest.  Second, I have a friend who is a Child-Life Specialist (if you don't know what that is, look it up) and works in a Children's Hospital, so I called her on our way.  She offered some guidance and some "what-to-expect" at the hospital, which was so, so helpful and appreciated.  Thanks Aimee :)

To sum up our ER experience - it was faster than we anticipated (maybe because they weren't very busy or maybe it was because Ezra was a baby who fell, but they saw us pretty quickly), there seemed to be miscommunication between those helping us (which was frustrating for this mama, but in the end, they got things done and got us out of there), and the Z man was an absolute trooper.  He blew us away with how well he did.  After assessing him and determining his head was alright and that the blood from his mouth was simply a cut on his lip (rather than his teeth cutting all the way through or his jaw breaking), they went to work on his hands.  He had a few X-rays on his right hand to make sure there were no broken bones (which there weren't, PTL!) and to determine that he had some debris underneath the hanging fingernail.  Lovely, I know.  Ezra sat quietly...no seriously, he sat quietly and just watched...I was amazed...while the nurses and Doc irrigated his finger, scrubbed off the dirt and blood, wiggled the fingernail back into place, and then glued, taped and wrapped it down.  He got a baby popsicle to suck on, as a reward, and then we waited for some medication and to be discharged.  We were probably there 2 hours or so, and like I said, it went much faster than we anticipated, which was great. 

Max and I were eager to get home at this point and get Ezra ready for bed.  The poor little guy had the worst time sleeping (and has had a rough few nights).  Not only did he have his little accident, but at least 4 teeth popped through in the past few days, and he has been in super-fussy-teething mode, which is just no fun for anybody.  We try and try to console him - there is much rocking, holding, loving on and back-rubbing, but there is only so much we can do.  He eventually falls asleep exhausted and wakes up again, hours later, teeth still bothering him.  I will be one happy mama when they come in and I know he is a happy little guy again.  His hand/finger seem to be doing well.  Because he has such little, stubby fingers, they not only buddy-taped it to the next finger, but also wrapped up his whole hand, to make sure the bandage would not come off.  So, his hand is completely enclosed in an Ace bandage and taped off.  They used some medical tape to wrap the end, but it started coming off on the way home, so what do Max and I do when we walk in the door?!  We duct-taped the whole thing on.  Kind of ridiculous, I know, but it keeps it on!  His hand looks like a huge club.  And he bangs it on everything, which is hysterical.  I call him Clubby.   

We cleaned his hand last night and his fingernail is looking better than I expected.  The ER Doc told us to expect it to fall off, as the new one grows in.  For some reason, that is really grossing me out.  I have to have Max do all the up-close dealing with it, while I hold Ezra.  It just gives me the hee-bee-gee-bee's!  We have an appointment today with our usual Doc, to re-check him and make sure everything is healing well.  

Max is still a bit of a mess from the other night.  He feels absolutely awful, although it could have been me or anybody else.  It wasn't his fault, although I know he still feels responsible and that really gets to him, knowing it's his little baby boy.  I just keep thanking God that it wasn't worse, and that Ezra is ok.   It was so scary when it happened, knowing it was my kid that fell face-down and that he is just a little baby.  I know I simply stepped in and dealt with the situation as quickly as possible, but inside, my heart was a mushy, emotional mess!  The whole experience was also a reality-check.  It makes me realize how fragile life is, how something can happen in an instant, makes me grateful and thankful to God for what I DO have.  Nothing is ours forever.  This life, my babies lives, are not my own.  I would not be here, walking, breathing, if it were not by the grace of God.  And He is so good to us.  There is so much humble thanks in my heart right now.