My Heart Hurts for My Little Sunshine Girl

Update: Adaleine is doing awesome and is fully recovered! She didn't have to undergo any of the skin graft procedures I was so worried about, so we are SO thankful to God for his healing power! Thank you to all for your prayers and well-wishes. She's a little trooper and so strong.

Most of you probably know that my sweet little Adaleine had an accident this past weekend and got some pretty bad burns. She has both arms bandaged, her left hand, and a couple little spots on her back.

I’m not a very demonstrative person. I don’t share my emotions too much, I don’t cry often, and I don’t particularly like being touched most of the time. All that to say that I’m not doing any crying or clinging to my baby girl. I’m not doing any ‘shoulda-woulda-coulda’-ing. It happened and now we just have to do what we can to help her.

But in the days since it happened, I’ve been randomly hit with little thoughts that have pricked my heart, little stabs of pain that I have for my little girl. They come at odd times and they’re usually just fleeting little thoughts. And since I’m not sobbing and spilling my guts to anyone really, I thought the best way to get through what’s happening to my sweet girl was to write it all down.

My Sad Moments:

If you’ve ever gotten a real Adaleine hug, you know that she gives the best squeezes of any kid. Ever. In the history of the world. But since her arms are bandaged and it hurts her to bend them, she can’t share those hugs for a while. It might be weeks or longer, and I’m going to miss them.

Sissy Bell is in love with the swing set in our backyard. She could sit out there and swing for hours at a time. While her big sister runs in and out of the house, Sissy just sits on the swing, talking to Eden when she’s out there and singing to herself when she’s alone. But with the combination of her left hand being badly burned and the amount of discomfort any heat and sweat would cause her, there will be no swinging for a while. She already misses it.

She will have scars on her arms. The way the doctor at the burn center talked about it, there seemed to be very little doubt. And with Mr. Bug being Hispanic, the scarring may be fairly noticeable. My little Adaleine has beautiful skin that has been slowly turning a gorgeous dark tan thanks to her hours on the swing. She has a darker complexion than her big sister, and that darker tone will probably make the scars that much more distinct. I know my sweet girl will be okay though. She is a real trooper and roll with the punches kid. I know that since she’ll grow up with the scars, she’ll be less self-conscious about them. That all of the friends she’s sure to make will just see them as part of who she is and accept them along with her big brown eyes and 1,000-watt smile. But there will be kids along the way that will use those scars against her, and that makes my heart hurt.

Depending on how her burns heal over the next two to three weeks, Adaleine may need skin grafts in one or two spots to fully recover. So on top of the trauma that her little three-and-a-half year old body has already been through, she will have the added stress of a surgery. The thought of my baby girl sedated on a hospital bed makes tears sting my eyes.

My wonderful husband blames himself. He was outside with her and the other kids she was playing with when it happened. He can’t stop seeing the vision of her being pulled out of the fire pit by the ankles, hair smoking and eyes closed while she screamed. He is damaged too, and although his pain is much less visible he’s carrying it around and waiting to heal just the same. And I can only do so much to help him.

The one thing that I think hurts me the most is how strong my sweet Adaleine Grace has been through the past few days. She is smiling and laughing, playing and teasing. My little girl is handling her terrible pain with more grace than many adults I know probably would. She’s my brave little Sunshine and I can’t wait for this time to be behind us. Because honestly, no little girl should have to be brave for too long.