My baby boy,

Our house is just a disaster. Last night while I was attempting to put the boys to bed, I had to move their fan on the ground because it was facing the Brittanica drawing over Lucas’ bed and making noise. There’s a little part of the front screen of the fan that is broken, just a little two inch section where it’s now a hole. I wasn’t paying attention and my finger went right into that hole while the fan was on.

Ellie calmly called Gma and Pap, without me even asking, while I bled everywhere. Chaos then erupted in the house. Ellie started crying thinking I was going to lose too much blood and die. Lucas was crying and Elijah was saying it was “his fault” it happened because I was in their room putting them to bed. I asked Ellie to call daddy, as if he’s going to be able to make anything better from over four thousand miles away.

Gma stayed with your siblings while Pap took me to the overly busy emergency room. When I’m in pain, I just walk and pace around. I did it when I was in labor with all four of you and waited way too long to go to the hospital. If I just keep walking, there’s not as much time to think about the pain.

I was pacing around the emergency room for probably around fifteen minutes, but then I decided to go outside. That room was only so big and if I felt like I’d start to get uncomfortable if I was waiting in the ER and some random lady keeps just pacing back and forth like a lunatic.

I went outside and that’s when a flashback hit me. There were two ambulances parked at the end of the ER, one had just brought someone in. All of a sudden the images of you in the ambulance that day came back. I saw them putting you in it, me answering questions for a police officer next to the ambulance, and then unfortunately the picture of daddy’s face when the ambulance pulled up the the hospital and they took you out came into my mind. Daddy had been at work, but managed to get to the hospital before we even did. That look is engrained in my memory and I feel as helpless as his look was.

After four hours, I got to go home. I broke a bone and my entire nail, like the part that goes down into my finger, came to the outside and they had to put it back in. I’m sure there’s a more medical term, but it’s gross.

I came home to find out that your poor siblings PTSD got triggered by the whole event and the boys took forever to go back to sleep. With what happened with you, Elijah’s mind automatically went to the place where since I went to the hospital, like you I would not make it out. He told Gma he had already lost too many members of his family and wondered what would happen to them since daddy’s so far away. Would they be orphans? Lucas was upset because he wanted to say “goodbye” and “I love you” a hundred times before I left and he didn’t get to say it one last time outside.

It’s so sad to hear that this is what goes on in your siblings’ minds at this age. I cannot comprehend how they deal with such horrible things and it showed me that they’re definitely not “okay”. Lucas’ guidance counselor sent me a list of therapists in the area so I am going to see who I can find for your brothers. Ellie still talks to Auntie from Hawaii, but I need to make sure all three of them are getting the support that they need.

This is completely unrelated, but Lucas remembered it and I wanted to tell you. He came running into my room yesterday after he was dipping his hand into my wax warmer and said, “mom, I remember something Isaiah said! He would put his fingers in there and call it finger bandaids”. To be honest, I see it.

I love you more than anything, my baby boy. Goodnight and sweet dreams.