We’d had a lovely afternoon at Treefest, riding the merry-go-round and helter skelter, sitting in a tent listening to stories of gypsies and kings, eating churros and chocolate sauce, exploring treehouses and generally running amok in the bank holiday sunshine. When it was time to head back to the car we did the usual you-can’t-catch-me game… and then it happened. He fell over, head first, onto the sharp gravel path. Oh my loves, there was so much blood. In a flash Abby scooped him up and we planted ourselves on the side of the road, searching for tissues and water, knowing it wasn’t going to be enough. Noah’s dad ran to get the first aiders, and it was amazing how many other mums stopped and offered us tissues and wipes — one lady sat down and unpacked an entire first aid kit from her bag. Mums, women, people are so good. Help arrived in the form of two ex-army medics, a husband and wife team who were absolutely brilliant. Noah let the woman — I think her name was Jane, it was all a bit fraught — clean up his face and we could see there was a cut on his forehead, he’d taken the skin off above his lip and grazed his cheek. HE WAS SO BRAVE. Crying, distraught and scared, but so so brave, our little man. He even swallowed down a spoonful of Calpol without any complaint, which definitely helped to ease his head.
And while all this was happening, I sat like a rock beside my sister, helping where I could, but staying calm. We all react to scary stuff in different ways — apparently I get really zen. After a moment of sheer panic when i saw Noah’s bloody face, I went straight into keep-everyone-calm mode. Once he was all patched up Noah stepped out of his mummy’s arms and came to me. I picked him up and gave him lots of cuddles, showing him the ambulance (the “nee-nah”) while Abby talked to Jane and let herself feel what had happened. As we walked back to the car Noah wanted me to keep carrying him, and though his mummy just wanted him back in her arms, we agreed later that it was a definite sign that he was okay. Usually when really bad stuff happens he just wants his mummy, so wanting me meant things were normalising.
Back at home we tucked him up on the sofa with a DVD and offered biscuits and chocolate but Noah wanted an apple and some juice :) The next day we stayed at home, but he was jumping off the sofa in no time, fearless as ever. His face is scabby, and, of course, he’s constantly picking at it, but he seems absolutely fine. His mummy, daddy and auntie, on the other hand, are still processing it all!
Our brave boy.