Friday the Thirteenth

I am superstitious...a little bit too much. Ever since meeting Jack's family, they have taught me that Friday the thirteenth is a lucky day, though. Grandma Joan & Grandpa Frank got married on a Friday the thirteenth. And, get this! Jack Davidson was born on their anniversary. So, my son is a very lucky little boy. This Friday, he was not only lucky, but oh so blessed.

Dear Jack,

You gave us the scare of a life-time Friday night! You were pretty darned petrified yourself. A fluke of an accident with your Razor scooter handlebars and your perfect little face sent us into a panic. We rushed you to the urgent care screaming and refusing to take your hand off of your swollen-shut eye. You had to have a CT scan on your face, head and neck. You had to have your eyes stained and examined. You rode in an ambulance to a children's hospital ER, where we spent the night. You were examined by an opthamologist, a plastic surgeon and a neuro-surgeon...all telling us that surgery might be necessary. If one of your eye muscles or nerves fell into the fracture, that would have needed emergency surgery. Nothing can describe those gut-wrenching 19 hours!

But, in the end, we got continued good news. No surgery needed. Your eye-sight looked good. Just an orbital fracture that should heal on its own--music to our ears. See? Lucky, fortunate, guardian-angel protected you.

Love you,

Mama