As many of you know, I ended up in the ER after what was supposed to be a simple family outing at the ice skating rink.  I don’t know if it’s common knowledge that you don’t take your toddler to go ice skating if you’re not a seasoned ice skater yourself, but we did anyways.  Since the snow at our house had iced over, Scott taught Carter to “skate” on the ice by shuffling his feet instead of trying to walk and ultimately fall.  Carter LOVED this.  He thought ice skating was the coolest thing ever so I thought it would be really special to take him to an actual ice skating rink!  My thought process isn’t completely flawed, right?


We surprised Carter with telling him we were going to the ice rink and he was ecstatic!  He could not believe that we were going to go REAL ice skating!  When we got to the parking lot of the rink we were having a hard time finding a parking spot and Carter was getting very impatient.  He just wanted to get inside already!  When they handed over his little Carter size ice skates he was speechless.  He thought they were the most amazing things he had ever seen and was beyond happy that they were his!  Well, at least for the next hour.


By the time he and I skated up, the Zamboni was resurfacing the ice and I was afraid that Carter was going to start breaking down walls to get into the rink!  I thought he would think the Zamboni was cool and it would distract him for a bit, but he was interested for maybe half a second.  By the time the Zamboni was finished Carter was ready to be on the ice.  Oh, I forgot to mention how many people were there that afternoon… TOO MANY!  My goodness there were so many people at the ice rink that day and it was nuts.  We actually shuffled through a pathetic line coming from 4 different directions for about 5 minutes before we got into the rink.


We got on the ice and Carter was immediately nervous.  This was way harder than skating in his boots and I was having a hard time hearing him because the rink was so loud with all the people.  After a while we figured out a little rhythm where Carter would hold one of my hands and he’d use his other along the wall and he’d try to shuffle his feet while I shuffled along.  No, I am not a seasoned ice skater.  I have been ice skating on several occasions in my life and I can even go backwards (very slowly and with no intended direction) so I figured I could take my 3 year old out.


Zellie was so sad that she wasn’t out on the ice with us! Scott said she pretty much cried the whole time and kept trying to crawl away haha.

After making it around the entire rink one time my back was killing me and I wasn’t really sure how much fun Carter was having.  We both noticed that many of the other kids were pushing around and sitting on little plastic chairs and plastic seals to help them skate so I tried to acquire one for Carter.  BUT, they were all out because there were TOO MANY people there.  Of course.  Well, Carter still wanted to ice skate so we made it around the rink the second time and I was feeling confident about our progress.  We were nearing the door to get off, but I decided that we would go around a third time and call it a day and go home.  We passed the door and Carter started thrashing a bit.  Surprised by his behavior I knelt down by him and asked what was wrong.  He told me that he wanted so very badly to have a chair or a seal to help him skate, but I explained that I tried to get him one and they were all out.  He was sad, but he agreed to go around the rink one more time.


Not even 100 yards later Carter started to fall and his skate went into mine.  We both fell and I landed on the back of his skate, the skate impaling my leg (my upper hamstring, just under my butt).  I felt the skate go through my leg and when I saw his skate covered in blood I started to panic a bit.  Two teenage boys were skating behind us and watched the fall happen.  One went right to Carter and helped him stand up, asking him how he was doing and if he was hurt.  The other tended to me.  The first thing I said was “I’m bleeding”.  He tried to reassure me that I wasn’t and I was fine, I then reached my hand behind my leg to the cut and brought up fingers of blood.  The boy was shocked!

They waived over the employee on the ice and I called Scott.  He was sitting in the bleachers with Zellie, our diaper bag, camera bag, and our boots.

He answers casually, “Hey, what’s up?”

“Help.”  I reply.

“What? Where are you?”

“Help. Ice.” was all I could manage to say.

I watched him from across the rink as he flung every bag he had on his shoulders and swept up Zellie.  He disappeared for a minute as he exited the bleachers and I thought he had seen me.  I saw him again and he looked so lost, he wasn’t coming my direction.  I learned later that he had no idea where I was and someone saw him in a panic and asked, “Are you looking for her?” and pointed to the circle of parking cones and people surrounding a pathetic woman lying on the ice.

He came over and handed me Zellie.  Haha!  Man, thinking back on that moment, that’s hilarious!  But, he had to get Carter off the ice and none of the teenage boys looked like they had every held a baby, or that they wanted to hold her, so I took her.  A female employee with dirty rags and some gauze had come to me at this point and was trying to get my pants open enough to see the wound and dress it.  She kept saying, “Oh it’s not that bad!  Just a little cut!  Might be deep, but it’s not very big!” And then she’d turn to another employee and say, “Wow, look at all this stuff coming out!”  Dude, I’m still here.  Thanks.

Anyways, They helped me skate off the ice (yes I had to skate off the ice) and two employees helped support me as I stood and the female employee cut open my jeans and put gauze on the wound.  I started to feel nauseous and very weak.  I couldn’t form complete sentences because I was just too weak.  The employees commentated:

“Well looks like she’s probably in shock.”

“Yeah, typical.  Maybe get that trash can over here, don’t want her to ralph on you!” (laughter)

“Do you think she’ll be okay?”

“Yeah, totally.  It’s such a small cut, but man all that gross stuff coming out?!”

“Hey, Miss, it’s a small cut, but it might be deep so you should probably go to the hospital.”

No response from me because I just want to punch everyone there.

Meanwhile, Scott is helping Carter get his shoes on and trying to talk to him about the experience and see if he’s okay.  All the while holding, or doing something, with Zellie who is, thankfully, as chill as can be AND filling out an accident/injury report for the ice rink AND AND trying to find the nearest hospital to go to.

When I’m all bandaged up Scott, on one side, and another guy on the other side each go under my arms and grab each of my legs.  They then carry me outside to the parking lot where I wait standing and resting on this random guy as Scott gets our car, rearranges the car seats so I can lie down, puts the kids in, and comes to where I am.  It felt like forever but I think it’s the stupid comments from the teenage boys and girl about my “state of shock” and all the “guts coming out of the cut” intermixed with their plans for the weekend and the tests they failed last week was the most awful part of the whole experience.


Anyways, Scott came and we went to the ER.  I was checked in and examined.  To everyone’s great surprise, the blade somehow narrowly missed any of my muscle so it was as minimal of an injury as it could be!  The cut ended up being about 2.5″ deep and 2.5″ wide.  The doctor did 8 interior stitches on two different levels and 10 exterior stitches.  We were in the ER for about 4.5 hours total and the kids were very well behaved and even bubbly throughout the experience.  We were very blessed to have had some friends who happened to be in town that evening and were able to come to the ER and help with the kids so Scott could be with me during the stitches.  I also received the most beautiful Priesthood blessing of healing from Scott and our friend that was such a huge comfort to us.

I definitely don’t recommend having a skate go through any part of your body, and I would much rather go through 100 labor and delivery experiences again before I had to get stitches!   So many of you shared your condolences on social media and I just want to say THANK YOU!  It was so wonderful to read your messages!