Follow-Up

If I had known ahead of time that Emma's owies from last week would heal so quickly, I would have taken  a day-by-day picture of the improvement.    

The first day was the worst- her face was swollen and bright, hot red.  Her eye was nearly swollen shut in the morning and her cheek had two major scabs as well as several smaller bubble blisters on her cheek, nose, and lips.  Every time I looked at her my stomach flipped- how could this have happened?  What could I have done differently?  Will she look like this forever?  Jason and I confided in each other that we each considered dousing our own faces in scalding hot water, just so we can know what she is going through.  Maybe somehow that would make us feel better.  The accident is all I can think about, and I try not too snap at the kids when they say things like, "Why does Emma's face look so weird?" Instead I reassured them that her face will be back to normal in no time, although I'm not sure I believe it myself.  I can't stop thinking, "Its all my fault."  I can't stop staring at each of my kids and thinking about just how fragile they really are.

The second day wasn't much better than the first, and Emma was looking quite greasy to boot.  I was applying the burn medication half a dozen times a day to keep her owies moist, and the ointment is smeared all over her face and up into her hair.  I don't care.  She has had her blankie and pacifier with her for the last 72 hours straight.  Her eye was opening up, but  the whole area was still too pink.  A few people had seen her by this point, and they all said the same thing, "Oh!  We've all done things like that to our kids!  Don't be so hard on yourself!"  Really? I thought.  What I want is for someone to yell at me and tell me I am a horrible mother and that, really, no one else in the world has ever done something so stupid.  But sure, let me hear your stories.  I don't think they'll make me feel any better, but I'd love to know I'm not alone.

The third day things changed.  The hot pinkness was replaced by an ugly shade of purple-ish gray.  Emma had taken to tracking down the ointment and handing it to me, then laying in my lap like a kitten and whimpering while I gently applied as needed.  She seemed to be perking back up to her regular self.

The fourth day she looked like she had a layer of glue dried on her face and it was peeling at the edges.  Her eyebrows, lips, nose and cheek were all sloughing off dead, burned skin and the skin underneath looked as healthy and smooth- just like the doctor promised.  Every day is bringing a marked change in the appearance of the burns.

On the fifth day, I noticed that when mentioning her burn, she holds out her hand from where she high-fived the burner a few weeks back.  That was a much, much hotter burn, and it seems to bother her more than her face, which she hardly attends to at all.  

By Sunday, one week after the accident, Emma's face really does look almost as good as new.  To me, it is a miracle.  And a testament of the amazing machines that our bodies really are, to be able to recover from something so shocking and so painful in so little time.  And I have been thanking the Lord for that every day since.  He truly is a God of miracles, and a God of forgiveness.