Yeah. He didn't cut the cord. Not the end of the world.
At least my little guy was okay. That's all that truly mattered. He was perfect. And gorgeous. Born with a full head of hair. Just like his Momma.
My BP was back to it's norm (110/80-ish), so I was free to sleep on my back or right side. I made my way through preeclampsia with nary a lasting scratch.
That being said, the following ten plus days were hell. I had a horrible sinus infection, and getting adjusted to your first born's sleep schedule does not contribute to a sane or happy Mom. Particularly when she's sick on top of it.
And then the car fell on him.
Mr. Epi. Not the Baby. Obviously.
I was sitting at the table in the kitchen crying into my hands out of sheer exhaustion when I heard Mr. Epi stomping up the back stairs. "EPIIIIIII....EPI Uhm..... I need you."
I looked up as he entered the back door. He was covered in blood. He looked like an extra out of a horror movie.
I sat there, slackjawed. For half a second or so. Then I flipped out.
"OhmyGodohmygodohmygodOHMYGOD... What the hell happened to you? I grabbed him and dragged him towards the sink. There was blood everywhere.
"The car fell... Jackstand...Oh Jesus..." Remember me telling you that he wasn't a fan of blood? He really isn't. He felt ill. I grabbed a kitchen towel from the drawer and put it to his head, walked him to the couch in the living room and forced him to lay down.
FC was sleeping in the swing, blissfully unaware of the chaos.
"You need to go to the hospital. Should I call 911?" I wasn't an EMT yet, I didn't know what the hell to do. With the knowledge I have now he would have gone by EMS. Back then I didn't know what the hell to do.
There is just so much blood.
Mr. Epi decided to stop blowing blood everywhere and speak up. "You are not calling 911. Call your Aunt."
"Well I can drive you..."
"No, you can't. Your car has no oil in it, and it's blocking my truck in." Blood was soaking through the towel on his head.
I called my Aunt, who came to pick us all up. She kept Baby FC, and I drove Mr. Epi to the ER.
He ended up with several stitches, but no skull fracture, thank God.
Summer changed back into Winter...
...and Winter gave Spring and Summer a miss and went straight on into Autumn.
And that is my last Holy Grail quote. I promise.
Mr. Epi and I were getting along well enough. He did his thing and I did mine. We complimented each other. At least that's what I thought...
The fact was I was fooling myself. Just two years into our marriage and we were basically roommates. Roommates who slept in the same bed. Roommates who got along fantastically. We never fought. We just lived our lives, did sweet things for each other on occasion, and raised our precious Son. Well, I raised him. Mr. Epi was quickly losing interest in him.
I didn't get it. How do you lose interest in your SON?
I was changing the diapers. I was waking up with him. I was playing with him all day. I was feeding him, and kissing his ouchies. That's what a Parent does, right?
Apparently Mr. Epi had issues of his own. Issues I didn't completely understand yet. (Issues I'm not planning on divulging, for the record.)