This evening our three year old fell backwards off the couch... flat on the back of his head... worse still, onto our concrete floor. For all you moms out there, you can imagine the sick feeling in your stomach, and the concern you feel for your child, and the incredible overpowering feeling of wanting to care and protect your little one.
I think he's going to be fine. But...
The mother in me held an ice pack to his head, kissed his tears away, snuggled him for a long time, and now that he is in bed sleeping soundly, I'm waking him up every 15 minutes to do neuro checks... okay, maybe that part is the nurse in me. But whatever part of me it is, I know the danger of closed head injuries and know its important to check pupil dilation and cognitive function.
Paranoid you say? Maybe a little.
But... even though I trust my Heavenly Father to do all things well; to work all things out for good to those who trust in Him, I still recognize my responsibility as a mother. Whether it's feeding my children spinach and teaching them the Children's Catechism, or binding their wounds and comforting their hearts... that's my job. And whatever I put my hand to do, I will do my best to do it with all my heart (Col 3:23)