For two days, I was absolutely positive that I was in need of nose surgery. The slightest touch while washing my face or blowing my nose made my eyes water. Generally, I'm the type of person who ignores things that might cause others to, you know, actually address the issue. Paper cut? I'll get to that in a sec. Burned my finger? Let me finish flat-ironing this piece of hair first. You get it. I did my best to ignore the pain at first. I'm not sure that I even gave much thought to what was causing it. I just assumed it would go away or that my nose would fall off.
On the second day, it felt like worse, and I was sure it would be black and blue by the end of the day. Short of digging for gold, I sandwiched my nostril between two fingers in an attempt to figure out why my nose was acting like an engorged boob (because that is also a terrible feeling, for the record). I promptly reported to my husband that I must have a piece of loose cartilage floating around the tip of my nose. How that would happen, I couldn't tell you, but it seemed like the only explanation. Have you ever wondered how many times you touch your nose in a day? Injure it, and you'll soon find out. All I had to do was think about my nose, and my eyes would well up.
It had been awhile since I felt pain that brought tears to my eyes. Was I birthing a child through my nasal passage?
Dear God. The horror. Such a terrible visual of that. I'm sorry.
So I went about my usual post-work routine: drive home, unpack and prep breast pump for the evening, change my clothes, play with Presley, eat dinner, bathe Presley, put Presley down for the night, shower, set clothes for the next morning, brush and floss teeth, check e-mail, pump, and go to bed. I just couldn't figure it out! The unsolvable riddle! Hoooooooow did this happen?
At 2:00 in the morning, it hit me! Literally, it hit me. Presley's foot, that is.
She currently sleeps in a co-sleeper in the middle of the bed, and her cute little feet happen to lay right next to my face. She kicked my injured nose, and it took everything in me to keep from screaming. I'm no longer a soprano, but I could have been in that moment. As it turns out, Presley had kicked me in the face a few nights before and then kicked me again in the exact same spot. I'm sure there is an "in your face" joke in there somewhere, but it's too soon, people!
Press is really making me work for this whole motherhood thing, as if birthing her wasn't enough.
Ninja Baby: 1