Two years ago, my daughter, Emily, had just awakened from a nap and was joyfully walking through the living room. I remember her skipping ahead of me, her little feet dancing across the floor. As I settled down at the computer desk in the hallway next to her brother’s room, she wandered into the bedroom. Suddenly, I heard a horrific crash that changed our lives forever.
When I rushed to the doorway, I saw the dresser toppled over but couldn’t spot Emily anywhere. Panic surged through me as I realized she was trapped beneath it. Having recently undergone major back surgery, I could only lift the dresser partially. With every ounce of strength, I managed to shift enough weight off her head and screamed for my husband, John. In an instant, he hurled the dresser away from her, and I saw her shudder, blood trickling from her left ear.
That moment was filled with overwhelming despair as I relayed information to the 911 operator. Emergency responders arrived quickly, and we faced the heart-wrenching decision of who would accompany Emily in the ambulance. Somehow, John chose me, and we raced toward the hospital.
Upon our arrival at the hospital, I felt detached, as if I were watching myself from a distance. I stood there sobbing while doctors cut away Emily’s clothing, desperately trying to convey my identity as her mother. One doctor interrupted, saying, “Mom, we’ll talk to you later.” My legs weakened, and I slumped into a chair, feeling utterly helpless. I had to contact my own parents, and in that moment, my mind was racing. Where was John? This was real, and it was terrifying.
Emily had air in her brain due to three skull fractures, but fortunately, the initial prognosis indicated her brain appeared healthy. We were given a critical 72-hour window. The fractures raised concerns about potential fluid leakage, which could lead to cerebral fluid infections like meningitis. She had also shattered the bones above her eyes and fractured a bone near her auditory nerve. Despite these injuries, the doctors remained optimistic about her recovery. However, surgery was necessary to repair the dura mater and reconstruct her orbital bones, which would involve a craniotomy—an incision from ear to ear. Without this procedure, the risks included blindness, double vision, facial deformities, or even death from infection. Hearing “brain” and “surgery” sent me into a spiral of fear.
Miraculously, two years later, Emily has made a full recovery, but I am still grappling with the emotional fallout of that day. The incident occurred simply because she reached for a Barbie doll from an unsecured dresser. When I returned home from the hospital, I saw remnants of that day—blood on the floor. I approached the dresser and noticed how easily it tipped with just a push from my foot. In frustration, I hit it with my hands until they turned red and sore. But deep down, I knew the dresser wasn’t to blame—it was our oversight. A simple anchoring of the dresser to the wall could have prevented this tragedy.
As a parent, your greatest fear is something happening to your child. You strive to be their protector, ensuring they are safe. Yet, accidents can occur, and nothing prepares you for the sight of your child in a hospital bed, broken and in pain. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and the guilt of not securing that dresser was overwhelming.
Emily’s recovery was truly miraculous. Post-surgery, her swelling was minimal, and the bruising around her eyes gave her an unexpected, colorful appearance. The doctors had cautioned us that she might be unrecognizable, but she remained our sweet Emily, albeit with a new hairdo that resembled a “Princess Crown.” Every day, I thank the universe for allowing her to stay in my life, and I am committed to spreading the message about the dangers of unsecured furniture.
I urge all families to take action against unsecured furniture. Every two weeks, a child is severely injured or even dies from furniture tip-over accidents. This type of incident can occur in any home, regardless of the parent’s background. I implore you to secure your furniture to the wall now—just as you would fasten your child’s seatbelt. It could save their life.
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In summary, we were fortunate to escape a tragedy, but the emotional scars linger. I share our story not just to recount our experience but to raise awareness about the critical need for furniture safety. No family should endure what we went through.
Keyphrase: unsecured furniture safety
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