TGIF... or not

It's Friday! Fridays to me mean time to catch up with my adorable little cherubs after three long days of work. We usually play the morning away, or if we are feeling particularly ambitious, get ourselves to the pool. But, today, life had other plans in mind.

When I got home from work last night, Brennan was up on the couch in the playroom and refused to walk. He insisted his foot hurt and he wanted to be carried everywhere. We thought he had stubbed his toe and decided to wait it out until morning. Well, this morning, he collapsed in pain when he tried to take a few steps. Brennan collapsing and crying in pain?! Brennan is the kid that takes a blow to the head and then insists with his arms wide that he is okay. He is constantly bruised and bloodied from something or other, but he never really complains about it. So when he complains about something, we listen. We really listen.

We were at the doctor by 8:30 a.m. The doctor felt we needed x-rays. Brennan and I were off to the hospital for X-rays, while I feverishly tried to patch together childcare at home for Aidan and Griffin. Up until this point, Brennan handled the doctor, the probing and the unfamiliar like a champ. But, the x-rays sucked the big one.

After waiting for forty five minutes, the x-ray techs brought us into the x-ray room. One of the techs said she thought it would be better if I did not go in with Brennan. I told her that he would most likely become hysterical and that once he starts, he is difficult, if not impossible to calm down. Her reply? "We don't care if he cries as long as we get the pictures we need."

Oh. Well, that made me feel better about handing you my two year old. We went into the room and even with me next to him, Brennan just completely lost it. Screaming, flailing, crying - just general hysteria. He wouldn't lie on the table. He just kept twisting and turning to get to me as he screamed louder and louder. The tech turned to me and asked me to leave. I told her no. After a few more minutes, she snapped at me, "he will stop if you just get out of here."

So I left the room. I left my sweet little baby - a boy Chris and I call "pure joy" alone in a room with complete strangers when he was scared and helpless. I left him as he cried louder and louder. I left him.

I stood outside the exam room door for what felt like an eternity. Tears streamed down my face as I listened to him scream for me. "I wannnnnt my mommy," he cried, "please give me my mommy." "I need my mommy." And then he started to beg and hiccup, "Please I need to hug my mommy." It was endless and did not stop. The crying, the begging, the hysterics got louder and louder, until finally the x-rays were done.

When the tech opened the door, I grabbed Brennan and sat down with him in my arms. We rocked back and forth and both of us just cried. Brennan couldn't catch his breath and only started to giggle when he saw how hard I was crying right along with him. I whispered how much I loved him, how sorry I was, and how proud I was of him. I couldn't let him go.

After Brennan was dressed, the tech came back to us and apologized to me. She said she never should have said that they did not "care" if he cries. She also apologized because they thought he would calm down once I left, "but he didn't, " she said, "he just got worse." I appreciated her apology, but it also made me feel worse. It made me feel more guilty. Because instead of listening to a complete stranger, perhaps I should have trusted myself, my knowledge of my child and been more patient with him in an unfamiliar situation. I should have given him more time to adjust. If I had, he wouldn't have had to go through that alone, with me on the other side of a closed door.

We had to wait for the results of the x-rays back in the reception area. By this time, Brennan had already forgot about the whole thing. He was back to "pure joy", happy to play and cuddle with his Mom. I, however, could not stop the silent tears that still crept up on me from time and time again as I hugged him. I still could hear him screaming and crying for me.

The kicker? His x-rays are fine. He didn't break anything, but he still won't put weight on his foot.

On the drive home, I noticed nail marks on my upper arm. While I waited outside the exam room for Brennan, I had dug my nails so far into my arm that I left marks and bruises.

This was just an x-ray. A simple, silly x-ray.