If you've ever woken up to someone staring at you, inches from your face, you're probably familiar with the jolt of fear that accompanies such a surprise. You also probably have children, so waking up with a face inches away from yours probably shouldn't come as such a surprise anymore. Still, it can be rather terrifying.
On Friday night, Zoë ultimately ended up going to bed in our bed. Andrew went to bed on the couch. Sometimes that's just how these things work out. And if they've never worked out that way for you, consider yourself lucky. Zoë has only recently (like this week) started sleeping in 5-hour chunks (she's done it two whole times now!) and she has never taken a nap without being nursed to sleep (or lulled to sleep in the car) since leaving behind newborn-hood. She'll be two in a couple of months, so let's just say the past couple of years have been brutal in the sleep deprivation department and we'll do pretty much anything to get that child to sleep.
Well, about 6:00 in the morning, when the birds and the sun were up but when I wasn't close to wanting to be up, I woke up anyway. Despite having the whole rest of the bed to herself, Zoë's face was on my pillow, inches away from my nose.
"Mama," she whispered, patting my cheek. "Nurse. Nurse. Nurse."
I opened my eyes and almost screamed.
Zoë was covered in blood. It was pouring out of her nose and she'd been rubbing her nose with her hands, smearing blood all over her face and arms. There was blood on my pillow, blood on the sheets, blood on the baby, blood on me.
I grabbed the box of kleenex and pulled out tissue after tissue to pinch on her nose. Though I tried explaining to her that this was to stop the flow of blood, Zoë acted like I was trying to suffocate her. She's a fairly dedicated nose-breather and did not want me pinching her nose at all. She screamed, she thrashed about, she kept demanding to nurse, all the while blood was flying everywhere. It was all fairly dramatic.
Somehow I managed to get the two of us into the shower and Zoë's nose eventually stopped bleeding.
As I was contemplating reasons her nose might just suddenly start bleeding, the first thing I thought of is, "Well, she is her father's daughter. Perhaps she has seasonal allergies and will just wake up every morning with a bloody nose..."
And that was the worst thought ever because there's a huge difference to your husband waking up to a bloody nose every morning and your toddler waking up with a bloody nose every morning. A husband is fully capable of stopping his own bloody nose. A toddler, obviously, is not (if themurder scene mess in the bedroom proves anything). I can handle Andrew's frequent/seasonal bloody noses because he handles them, but I was really worried about having a child with the same problem...
Fortunately, it seems to have been a fluke. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed this doesn't happen again any time soon.
On Friday night, Zoë ultimately ended up going to bed in our bed. Andrew went to bed on the couch. Sometimes that's just how these things work out. And if they've never worked out that way for you, consider yourself lucky. Zoë has only recently (like this week) started sleeping in 5-hour chunks (she's done it two whole times now!) and she has never taken a nap without being nursed to sleep (or lulled to sleep in the car) since leaving behind newborn-hood. She'll be two in a couple of months, so let's just say the past couple of years have been brutal in the sleep deprivation department and we'll do pretty much anything to get that child to sleep.
Well, about 6:00 in the morning, when the birds and the sun were up but when I wasn't close to wanting to be up, I woke up anyway. Despite having the whole rest of the bed to herself, Zoë's face was on my pillow, inches away from my nose.
"Mama," she whispered, patting my cheek. "Nurse. Nurse. Nurse."
I opened my eyes and almost screamed.
Zoë was covered in blood. It was pouring out of her nose and she'd been rubbing her nose with her hands, smearing blood all over her face and arms. There was blood on my pillow, blood on the sheets, blood on the baby, blood on me.
I grabbed the box of kleenex and pulled out tissue after tissue to pinch on her nose. Though I tried explaining to her that this was to stop the flow of blood, Zoë acted like I was trying to suffocate her. She's a fairly dedicated nose-breather and did not want me pinching her nose at all. She screamed, she thrashed about, she kept demanding to nurse, all the while blood was flying everywhere. It was all fairly dramatic.
Somehow I managed to get the two of us into the shower and Zoë's nose eventually stopped bleeding.
As I was contemplating reasons her nose might just suddenly start bleeding, the first thing I thought of is, "Well, she is her father's daughter. Perhaps she has seasonal allergies and will just wake up every morning with a bloody nose..."
And that was the worst thought ever because there's a huge difference to your husband waking up to a bloody nose every morning and your toddler waking up with a bloody nose every morning. A husband is fully capable of stopping his own bloody nose. A toddler, obviously, is not (if the
Fortunately, it seems to have been a fluke. I'll be keeping my fingers crossed this doesn't happen again any time soon.
Oh no! What a scary sight to wake to.
ReplyDeleteThis made me laugh, though.
"She's a fairly dedicated nose-breather and did not want me pinching her nose at all. "