It's pretty terrifying when you hear your little girl scream, "I can't breathe, I can't breathe!" Yet you are glued to your seat, and you cannot move. Your husband and friend jump from their seats around the fire and get to your girl.
"I can't breathe." It’s the worst thing I have ever heard, and it made my heart stop for a moment. The words that made me wonder, just for a second, what tomorrow would be like without my sweet girl, "I can't breathe."
She had slipped. She had slipped on the step of our deck after climbing out of the pool. It was dark, she was excited, she was coming to me. She was coming to sit by the fire.
Your husband, your friend, they are there comforting her, and making sure she is okay. Things finally connect, you manage to get your legs moving, and you run. You run.
“I can’t breathe. Help me! I can’t breathe!” Reassuring words are spoken, “Breathe in through your nose; slow down your breathing like when we run.”
“I can’t breathe! I think I’m going to die. I love you.” Oh, those words tore me up inside. She would be fine; she just had the wind knocked out of her, but she was scared.
We all crowded around her, the other three kids, and the four of us adults. With my face close to hers I reminded her to take slow, deep breaths; I told her that she would be fine.
A few minutes and her breathing was back to normal, but she was crying and sore.
We all asked what had happened, how she fell. “I slipped. I fell backward, and then I fell forward, and I couldn’t breathe.”
My sweet girl wanted to watch Frozen once we got her inside, she wanted to sleep in between her Momma and Daddy, and she told her brother she was sorry that his friend couldn’t stay the night now.
She is fine now, a little bruised, a little sore, but she is fine.
"I can't breathe." It’s the worst thing I have ever heard, and it made my heart stop for a moment. The words that made me wonder, just for a second, what tomorrow would be like without my sweet girl, "I can't breathe."
She had slipped. She had slipped on the step of our deck after climbing out of the pool. It was dark, she was excited, she was coming to me. She was coming to sit by the fire.
Your husband, your friend, they are there comforting her, and making sure she is okay. Things finally connect, you manage to get your legs moving, and you run. You run.
“I can’t breathe. Help me! I can’t breathe!” Reassuring words are spoken, “Breathe in through your nose; slow down your breathing like when we run.”
“I can’t breathe! I think I’m going to die. I love you.” Oh, those words tore me up inside. She would be fine; she just had the wind knocked out of her, but she was scared.
We all crowded around her, the other three kids, and the four of us adults. With my face close to hers I reminded her to take slow, deep breaths; I told her that she would be fine.
A few minutes and her breathing was back to normal, but she was crying and sore.
We all asked what had happened, how she fell. “I slipped. I fell backward, and then I fell forward, and I couldn’t breathe.”
My sweet girl wanted to watch Frozen once we got her inside, she wanted to sleep in between her Momma and Daddy, and she told her brother she was sorry that his friend couldn’t stay the night now.
She is fine now, a little bruised, a little sore, but she is fine.
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