One Little Monkey Jumping on the Bed...

Well, you know how the rest of that chorus goes, but it's definitely not as fun as the song makes it sound. We know from our latest misadventure...

Will has taken to wanting to climb EVERYTHING lately. He sees footholds and stair steps in the most unlikely places. He definitely seems to be the typical adventurous, curious, and might I add daredevil of a little boy. In the past week, he's tried to climb the kitchen table, piano, and even his changing table. This past Friday morning I was in my bedroom getting ready. Will was playing nearby and sort of whining because he wanted to be up on the bed, but he couldn't climb up and I wasn't offering my assistance. Then the phone rang.

I turned my back to answer the call from my sister and open the bedroom blinds, when I turned around to see him standing, perched on the edge of the mattress. "O my gosh," I said to Kate, "Will figured out how to climb up the bed." No sooner than the words came out of my mouth he fell head first off the edge. I threw the phone down and darted around the bed.

He was moaning but moving, so I picked him up and laid him on the bed to take a good look at him. He kept squirming when all of the sudden I saw his little eyes roll back, his body tense, and he went unconscious. He had a paci in his mouth, so I reach to clear his airway and his jaw was rigidly set around it. I managed to pull it out. My heart leaped into my chest and a sob choked my throat, but I reached for the phone, hung up on Kate, and dialed 911.

Will woke up. He was out for less than a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. He began screaming, making it very difficult to hear what the dispatcher was saying. I was scared to move Will but he was reaching for me and moving around, and the guy told me the best thing I could do was keep him calm. Once I gave my address I was patched through to Security Forces (SF) on base and a wonderful Staff Sergeant stayed on the line with me until the firetruck from base arrived.

At this point, just five minutes later, Will was still whimpering and I opened the door for five firemen who paraded into our living room wearing their huge shiny silver suits, as well as the plainclothes fire chief. They wanted me to continue holding Will to keep him calm and they started checking his vitals. They couldn't find a bruise or bump on his head and quickly ruled out brain damage. Checked his pupils, blood pressure, which looked good and gave him some oxygen. By this time the ambulance from Baptist Hospital arrived wheeling in the stretcher, accompanied by two SF guys. All of which, Maddie, our consumate guard dog, handled surprisingly well, laying quietly beside us, and not even stealing a glance toward the gaping wide front door which led to freedom.

The consensus was Will looked just fine, he'd just passed out, and probably had the breath knocked out of him, too. Everyone was so helpful, kind, and reassuring. "Kids this age are resilient." "We get calls like this all the time." "He looks just fine." We ended up signing the refusal of transport to the hospital and they assured me that I could call at any time if I noticed anything wrong. Throughout the ordeal I was waffling back and forth between composure and tears. Signing the last form another tear escaped down my cheek and the EMT asked, "Ma'am are sure you're okay?" jokingly adding, "I can prescribe a valium for you if you like." Everyone left, and I collapsed into tears intermittently hugging Will, who at this point was back to happily running around the room.

Then I somewhat collected myself to make some phone calls. First poor Kate, who heard my panic and then sat around for an agonizing 45 minutes wondering what in the world was going on, then Aaron, who reminded me that a similar thing happend to him as a baby and he turned out okay. :)

It was such an indelibly scary experience, but I'm so thankful he's totally okay! Praise God!

And the doctor said, "No more monkeys jumping on the bed!" Or anything else for that matter!