When It Hurts, Listen

Over the weekend, we had a little bit of a scare with my three-year old, and it has left its mark on me, and I can’t shake it off.


It all began on Friday, when Ridha came home from school and ran up the stairs to tell me all about her day. I was lying down in bed, and she wanted to come up to join me and sit on the bed. Ridha never has any problem getting onto the bed, she is tall enough and rarely needs assistance anymore. But she asked me to help her, and I thought she had hoisted her body up halfway and just needed one last pull. So I did what we should never do, and I pulled her up by her hand. It was for one split second, and the next second she was in tears complaining about the horrible pain she was in.

For the rest of the day, Ridha did not move her hand at all. She kept it close to her chest, fastened by her other hand, and at any movement she would cry about the pain. We thought she was afraid, afraid to move her hand but if she did move it, it would eventually be fine.

But while trying to change her clothes, she was writhing and screaming from the pain. I knew in my gut that something is wrong, she wouldn’t pretend to be in such pain. So we went over the options…I called urgent care and they had a wait of 1.5 hours. We thought about taking her to the ER, but it would end up being the same wait time. It was after 5pm, her pediatrician’s office was closed.

Lucky for me, my family was coming over for dinner that night, including my father and brother who are both physicians. I thought we could wait for them to have a look at her, and they could advise what to do. So i left her arm out of the sleeve, fed her dinner while she lay on the sofa, and rubbed some ice on her wrist. It pained me to see her this way.

Soon after, when my brother came to the house, he sat with her and asked to look at her hand. In just a few seconds, she was in tears again from the movement. And he looked at me and says, “Her wrist was dislocated, I just popped it back in.”

Relief and shock kind of settled in at the same time, and I just couldn’t believe what I was hearing. How could I have done that? I still feel so, so guilty for causing harm to my own child, unintentionally but I put her through that nonetheless.

And sure enough, she cried for a few moments, but then gradually sprung right back to normal and began to play using both her hands. The entire night was filled with relief, and a very important lesson was learned.


I wrote this post primarily because the guilt was bothering me so much, and secondly because it’s a great reminder to all of us of how fragile our children are. Any roughness can cause damaging effects on them, and we just have to remind ourselves daily to be extra careful with little ones.

Have you ever doubted your child is in pain, despite what they are telling you? Share your experiences in the comments!

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