Our little Brycie broke his arm when he fell off the bed Friday night. I was helping someone in the ward move and said goodbye to my family at 6:45 to go help, leaving them eating pizza and watching The Grinch who Stole Christmas, because it was Friday and we wanted to do something fun.
I get a call from Christy about 45 minutes later with urgency in her voice saying "Hurry home, I think Bryce just broke his arm!" I sped home. When I got there Christy was holding a crying Bryce. I drove Christy and Bryce to the emergency room hoping that the arm wasn't broken, yet at the same time knowing that Christy is never one to exaggerate injuries. After painful X-rays and two attempts to get an IV in him, he finally is given some morphine and appears more relaxed. Inside I was wishing I could take his place and take all the pain that he is feeling and the fear he must be feeling not knowing what is going on. It hurt me to see my sweet little Brycie suffering so much. I quickly realized that Christy did a better job at soothing and calming him, so I felt like the best thing I could do would be to give her the strength to keep going by giving her what she needed.
Once we got to the D.C. hospital my heart was really breaking for him. They were moving his arm in different positions to X-ray it for the second time and he was crying and saying "owie!" each time we would re-position it. It would've been a little different if it had been Carter, at least we could explain to Carter what was going on, at least he would grasp a deeper understanding. But Bryce was beginning to understand a lot more than he could talk and I thought he is probably scared but doesn't know how to ask "What's going to happen now? What's wrong with me? Will I ever stop hurting?" So I tried to explain to him in a calm voice that the doctors had to take some pictures of his arm so they could make it feel better...then I repeated it to him in case he didn't understand the first time. He just nodded his head, sniffled and said "k", in his sweet little voice. He was really being so brave.
My mind kept thinking of his pain and how helpless I felt to do anything. I did all I could by giving him a blessing and being there for Christy and him. Christy said that must be how I felt when she was in labor and I couldn't do anything. She was right. That too was a helpless feeling and wishing I could bear some of the pain with her enough to keep her from the intense suffering, all of it if need be. I'll never forget that morning that Bryce was born and seeing Christy in the most pain I'd ever seen her in. She thought she was going to die, at least that is what her eyes were telling me and the scared expression on her face. These experiences both give deeper insight into the atonement from both the Father's view and the Son's. I am amazed at the Savior's suffering for us, not just physically, which was more than I can comprehend, but the emotional suffering. The mocking and hatred he felt from others, yet he loved them. I find it hard to not have bitter feeling towards others when I feel that they are out to hurt me. I am trying to be slower to take offense, and that is hard to do.
I get a call from Christy about 45 minutes later with urgency in her voice saying "Hurry home, I think Bryce just broke his arm!" I sped home. When I got there Christy was holding a crying Bryce. I drove Christy and Bryce to the emergency room hoping that the arm wasn't broken, yet at the same time knowing that Christy is never one to exaggerate injuries. After painful X-rays and two attempts to get an IV in him, he finally is given some morphine and appears more relaxed. Inside I was wishing I could take his place and take all the pain that he is feeling and the fear he must be feeling not knowing what is going on. It hurt me to see my sweet little Brycie suffering so much. I quickly realized that Christy did a better job at soothing and calming him, so I felt like the best thing I could do would be to give her the strength to keep going by giving her what she needed.
Once we got to the D.C. hospital my heart was really breaking for him. They were moving his arm in different positions to X-ray it for the second time and he was crying and saying "owie!" each time we would re-position it. It would've been a little different if it had been Carter, at least we could explain to Carter what was going on, at least he would grasp a deeper understanding. But Bryce was beginning to understand a lot more than he could talk and I thought he is probably scared but doesn't know how to ask "What's going to happen now? What's wrong with me? Will I ever stop hurting?" So I tried to explain to him in a calm voice that the doctors had to take some pictures of his arm so they could make it feel better...then I repeated it to him in case he didn't understand the first time. He just nodded his head, sniffled and said "k", in his sweet little voice. He was really being so brave.
My mind kept thinking of his pain and how helpless I felt to do anything. I did all I could by giving him a blessing and being there for Christy and him. Christy said that must be how I felt when she was in labor and I couldn't do anything. She was right. That too was a helpless feeling and wishing I could bear some of the pain with her enough to keep her from the intense suffering, all of it if need be. I'll never forget that morning that Bryce was born and seeing Christy in the most pain I'd ever seen her in. She thought she was going to die, at least that is what her eyes were telling me and the scared expression on her face. These experiences both give deeper insight into the atonement from both the Father's view and the Son's. I am amazed at the Savior's suffering for us, not just physically, which was more than I can comprehend, but the emotional suffering. The mocking and hatred he felt from others, yet he loved them. I find it hard to not have bitter feeling towards others when I feel that they are out to hurt me. I am trying to be slower to take offense, and that is hard to do.
Bryce's surgery went well and from 8:45 to 10:15 ish (about 1 and a half hours). He was extremely cranky coming out of the anesthesia and thrashing about. Christy said she almost dropped him a few times. Eventually later that night he was acting more like himself and not wanting to rest in the hospital crib, so we went for a few walks to see a fish tank and the elevators. I sure love my sweet little Brycie. I love Carter for his sweet spirit. I love Christy for being such a fabulous mother to them both and showing them unconditional love. I'm a lucky man.
