Fractured

Well, glancing at the pictures I had of Millie from the past month, I now realize that the broken bone was inevitable.  I began to laugh as I flipped through the images looking for what I wanted to add to this post and nearly every single one was of her doing something up off the ground: climbing trees, sitting up on the bales of hay in the haybarn, and so on. 

So it should have come as no surprise to me when she decided to take a flying leap off the roof of a shed this weekend and, of course, fractured her ankle.  She is quite embarrassed about it now so I will spare her the details of why she decided she could do that without harm, but suffice it to say, it still came as a surprise to me to discover she had really injured herself. 

We really strive to have an attitude of unfettered childhood exploration in our parenting, and I am convinced that we have actually had so few injuries (this is really our first one ever) because they have each had so much practice climbing and hanging and swinging that they are typically good at knowing their limits.  Oh my Millie girl, I imagine that she was lost in her imagination-land and didn't really think things through in spite of all the other kids she was with admonishing her not to jump.  Jump she did, and she landed right into six weeks of non-weight bearing and a nice firm cast to keep things from shifting as the bone heals.  

No climbing.  No jumping. No running.  No ballet.  No.... no.... no...

So here we are.

She was the bravest little trooper ever, laughing and smiling through the pain and finding all kinds of humor as we sat for hours through medical exams this week together.  When I had lost my ability to laugh, she was able to make me laugh again anyway. 

I am so thankful it wasn't worse, since the height from which she jumped really could definitely have led to a head injury or other much more serious injury.  As it is, the kind of fracture she has sometimes requires surgery if the bones have, I guess, shifted, and thanks to the Lord, hers don't seem to have, so the doctor was reassuring that he thought the casting would be sufficient.  We'll know more with additional x-rays in a week to check on things.  

It is hard as mama to watch her suffer, even the loneliness of being stuck fairly immobile and the sorrow of missing ballet, the true highlight of her week.  The first couple days on crutches were difficult and uncoordinated, but she motored on fearlessly and now she is realizing they're substitutes for her leg and started to cruise around a lot more quickly.  I am proud of her and proud that she is making it through.  We are making it through. 

P.S. If anyone wants to come sit and listen to her chatter away for an hour some afternoon to give my ears a break... say the word!  Ha!