Mom's intuition strikes again

Sometimes, mothers just know.
Mothers know things that are things are going to happen even before they happen.  We have extra eyes, extra ears, and some other maternal sixth sense. We can toss good sense and reason out the window in exchange for a gut feeling, and chances are we’ll be happy we did.
Such was the case when my daughter’s friend came jogging up to me.  She said my kid had fallen on her scooter and had asked for me to go to her. I instantly knew something was wrong because, as a rule, our children do not simply lay there if they are hurt.  They are the ones who brush it off and continue to play while the blood cakes in their socks. They are tough.
When I was called for, something had to be different.  I saw my daughter lying there on the ground, holding her hand.  I checked the wound and saw a tiny scrape, and no blood. Maternal warning sirens started going off in my head—if there was a big cut, I would know why she was so upset. Trying to stay calm and not flip out, I just walked her home and we all sat down for some water and an ice pack. With a comforting voice I asked her questions about how it happened, while I frantically searched things on my phone such as, “child broken bone symptoms” and “fractured arm” under the table so she couldn’t see. I called my husband, the voice of reason, who was of course not home at the time.
“Should I take her in?” I asked, as if his diagnosis from a state away was far better than my own two eyes and the look on her face. “Nah. Probably just a sprain. We’ll see how she’s doing in the morning.” He is usually right, the one in the marriage who doesn’t overthink things. But as we drove my daughter’s friend home, I kept glancing at my child’s eyes in the rear view mirror.  There was no overthinking this one.
The ER doctor called it a fracture even before the x-rays, and I was not at all surprised.  I think I knew the moment I saw her there on the ground next to her scooter. This is certainly not the ideal way to start off a summer when you’re seven years old, but if this old mom uses her intuition, I know she will be just fine. (I fear more for her brother. A hard cast is a built in weapon for sibling rivalry.)
Kids will always be kids, no matter how we try to bubble wrap them.  And moms will always be moms, seeing and knowing and calming and feeling.

Originally written/published 5/17/15.


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