April 17

Well, this is just getting ridiculous.

It was a lovely day today, so the little ones and I headed out to the garden for a playdate with Amber and her children. Our main goal for the morning was to feed the fish in the Japanese Garden, and as we headed there we spied a place we had never visited before. It was a paved cobble "landing pad" right down at the level of the lake, and it was accessible only by a curved stone path with steps leading down to the lake. The kids were fascinated, so Amber and I agreed that I would go down to the lake with the kids while she stayed up and took pictures/babysat our strollers.

The last few steps were uneven and kind of treacherous, so even though I was already wearing Eli wrapped on my front and had my camera slung over one shoulder, I picked up Lily to carry her down the last few steps. I almost made it. 

Almost. 

But something went wrong with the last step. I'm not sure if I missed it, or what, but something went wrong and I rolled my right ankle when I stepped down on those cobbles. The rolled ankle brought me down, and I came crashing down on my left leg. I'm not entirely sure what happened because I was so focused on my precious cargo, but I know that I dropped my camera and Lily hit the ground. Eli squawked, but was blessedly secure. (#babywearingftw!) Lily popped right back up and was no worse for the wear. My camera is fine (I think). But as I sat there on the step and collected my bearings, I realized that I couldn't get up.

I knew right away that my leg was broken.

I sent one of Amber's girls back up the steps to fetch Amber, who was amazingly cool and unflappable as I explained the situation to her. Even though she was wearing sweet Edie on her chest, she gathered up all of the children and escorted everyone up the stairs. I can't remember exactly, but I'm pretty sure Amber helped me hobble up the stairs until we found a bench, where I pulled out an ice pack that happened to be in our lunch bag. Amber herded all of the children to the bridge, where they could feed the fish, while I sat and recovered. I wasn't sure what to do; I was certain that there was something seriously wrong with my leg, and I was afraid it was broken. But what does one do with a broken leg? ER? Urgent Care? How should I get home? I called Chris, who had an important work meeting in just an hour. I texted my dad, who blessedly works at the garden and was working today. I texted my mom, who immediately called my dad and the garden security office to make sure I was taken care of.

Dad rescued me on a golf cart, took me to Amber and the kids where I explained the situation, and drove me to my van to wait while Amber herded the kids and the strollers back to the van. It's a long walk, especially with 7 children and 2 double strollers to attend to! But Amber handled everything like it was a totally normal occurrence. In the meantime, I talked to my doctor, who suggested that I go to an orthopedist instead of Urgent Care. I talked to Chris, who said he would head home right after his meeting. I talked to my mom, who agreed to meet me at my house to help with the kids until Chris got home. Amber and her kids showed up (some a bit sooner, thanks to a golf cart ride from my dad!) and Amber buckled all of my children into their car seats and got them situated with snacks. My friends, that is a big deal, and I am forever grateful.

I managed to drive home, where Mom joined me to remove children from car seats.

While I sat on the couch with ice on my leg and nursed Eli while I called various orthopedists, my mom handled lunch and naps for the girls.

Eli in my arms, ice on my leg.

Unfortunately, Friday afternoon is not a good time to try to get an immediate appointment with an orthopedist. 

Fortunately, the practice my doctor recommended runs a walk-in clinic at a hospital very close to my home on Friday nights. 

Mom stayed with the big kids, and Chris, Eli and I went to the clinic.

I snuggled and fed my baby while we waited. Isn't he sweet?

The end result?

This: 

I realize that you can hardly see it, but near the center of the image there is a nick or a notch in the small bone. That bone is my fibula, which is - blessedly - a non-weight-bearing bone. It only bears 1/6 of the body's weight. Apparently when I fell, I twisted my leg in a manner that broke the bone. The PA at the clinic told me that this is a very rare type of fracture, and it is usually coupled with another fracture near the ankle. Remarkably, my ankle was perfect, and my only injury was near the top of the fibula. They didn't even need to cast my leg, instead giving me a giant knee brace to immobilize my knee. Apparently the issue with this type of fracture is long-term knee damage, so my job is to stay off my leg as much as possible.

You know, because that's super-easy for a stay-at-home mom of four children under the age of six.

But then he told us that if I had had ankle issues as well, the treatment would have been surgery to stabilize the ankle. Suddenly my big old brace seemed like a giant blessing.

So, I broke my leg. It hurts a lot. I am definitely wallowing in some self-pity right about now, because seriously. How often does stuff like this happen? Premature baby. Mastitis. Slow weight gain. Sickness, sickness, sickness. And now, just when things were looking up and I was feeling like myself again, I break my leg? I mean, I know. I'm hardly Job here. But still, it's just a little bit ridiculous. I've definitely cried a little bit too much, eaten a little too much ice cream, and had one glass too many of wine today.

In the midst of a crummy situation, God has made things better than they could have been.

But I'm still in the midst of yet another crummy situation, and it's getting ridiculous.

Please pray for us, friends. We have definitely been attacked the past three months, and I'm about done with it. This has all been very, very humbling, and I'm done with it all.