Where's the Baby Book Page for "First ER Visit"?

For most people, when they imagine the first time that their children have to go to the emergency room, they think about broken bones or cuts that need stitches. But in the O’Neal household, we know that, if something bizarre is gonna happen, it’s gonna happen to us. Which is why, on Thursday afternoon, Sutton and I found ourselves racing to the hospital, as our one-year old was strapped in the back seat with his top lip stuck between his teeth.

It all started when Suttie woke up from his nap. I went upstairs with a basketful of laundry to put away in his room. As I was hanging up his clothes, he stood in his crib, like he’s done at least 200 times before, and started to cruise around the rails. However, if my son is anything, it’s definitely not sure-footed because, within a few moments, he had face planted into the end railing. As soon as I picked him up, I noticed that his mouth was bleeding, and, man, was it bleeding! He looked like an extra from Roadhouse. Now, I know that everyone thinks that their kids are tough, but my kid is really pretty tough. I mean, he’ll wail if you try to eat something in front of him, but he crawls over piles of hard plastic toys instead of going around them (I said tough, not smart). Within a few minutes, he stopped crying, and I thought that he had just busted his lip. But, on further examination, we realized that his frenulum (the bit of skin that attaches your lips to your gums) was actually caught in the gap between his two front teeth.

So, off we went to the ER, with Mommy riding in the back with Suttie while he seemed totally unconcerned about the whole affair. And thank God for it because, if he had been freaking out and crying hysterically, I would have been forced to morph into my ugly cry face, and nobody wants to see that. Instead, my time was spent trying to keep him from sticking things into his mouth, which, if you know my son, is a lost cause.

The emergency room was pretty standard – people moaning in corners, guys with dislocated kneecaps watching Judge Judy, and a kid with his lip stuck in his teeth – you know, the usual. When we got back to the exam room, Suttie started to get a little antsy because he recognized the doctor-visit setting, having had his one-year check up the week before. Of course, he cried when the doctor laid him down and started checking out his mouth, but it was more of a heartbreaking, “I wish I was strong enough to stop this” cry than a “I’m gonna tear you up when the nurse lets go of my arms” cry. And the diagnosis? In the time between the waiting room and the doctor arriving in the exam room, his lip had torn free, and he was fine. No stitches, no medicine required. So, essentially, Suttie ended up with a $150 popsicle. It was grape, and, according to him, it was totally worth it. We think so, too, because, at the end of the day, if a trip to the ER is what stands between us and peace of mind about our kid, we’ll pay for that popsicle all day long.