Ah, the joys of wiggly babies.

Labor Day sucked for me. It started out sucking, and the suckage lasted through yesterday.

My pixie woke me around 5:30 or 6:00. I went from a well-lighted bathroom into her dark bedroom, lifted her over the crib rail (by feel--I couldn't see a darn thing. I think I had her by the ribs on her right side and leg on the left with her facing away from me), and she gave an almighty wiggle and got away from me. I barely caught her by one arm before she hit the floor.

I heard a pop and she started shrieking. I checked her arm, but couldn't feel any break, and she didn't cry any harder when I felt her wrist, elbow or shoulder. She settled to nurse, and fell back asleep--confirmation that she hadn't broken anything, at least.

I fell asleep with her, and we slept for another hour and a half or two hours. Then, she planted both hands on me and tried to crawl up to my shoulder. And screamed again, and jerked her little arm back.

We took her straight to the urgent care clinic. Turns out she'd dislocated her elbow a little when I caught her--a condition called nursemaid's elbow. The doctor couldn't get it put back, so he ordered it splinted, and suggested we take her to a bone and sports medicine specialist. The poor little thing had a stiff splint--almost a cast--from her knuckles all the way up to just below her shoulder, holding her elbow just a little bent.

We got the specialist called yesterday morning, and got her in yesterday early afternoon. It took the doctor about fifteen minutes to twist her little arm around and get everything put back the way it was supposed to go.

It still hurts her a little, but she's able to use it today. But damn, if that didn't suck. I'd much prefer to be hurt than either of my little ones. Especially not when they're so small that I can't explain that yes, the doctor is hurting them, but it's to make sure they get better.