Puberty

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At half past her bedtime, Amber came running up to me yelling "Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!" as she held out her hand showing me the blood she found between her legs. She was curious as to what she might have drank to make her pee red. She wasn't scared of it or anything.

But, I ... I was petrified. Nothing could have scared me more than that moment- that image of her blood stained hand, and the blood stained shorts she was whipping in the air.

I grabbed her and strapped her in her car seat. I rushed headlong through the dark and empty freeway. I couldn't get to the hospital fast enough. And that scared her. She squirmed in her seat, calling out to me, asking me what was wrong. Over and over. I didn't know what to answer. Even when I said, "Honey, everything's okay," it didn't sound okay. She knew I was lying, and that just made her cry out louder.

When we got to the hospital, I ran with her in my arms towards the emergency room. A nurse took her from me, and another asked me questions.

"Ma'am can you tell us what happened?'

"I ... I don't know. She just came up to me and she's bleeding," my heart was pumping so loud, I could barely hear the nurse's questions.

"Was she with anybody when this happened?"

"No, it was just her and me in the house."

"And your husband, ma'am?"

"He's in New York."

"Was she playing with anything?"

"No! I don't know!"

She asked me a number of questions I could barely answer. Half of them didn't make sense to me. They eventually asked me to sit down and wait. One of them hospital people came up to me with a cup of water.

After taking my insurance card and handing me a pile of stapled printouts, I waited quietly with my hands and my knees shaking. Other people were watching me, I could feel their eyes burning. They were already judging me. They were probably thinking I was neglecting my child to get to this point.

After they've done a few tests behind curtains I wasn't allowed to see; and after a number of people came up and interrogated me with the same questions repeatedly; after replying "no," to every question, to every person- a young doctor still in his twenties came up to me, asked me to sit down and told me that my daughter could be suffering from something called Precocious Puberty.

*Basically, Mrs Schuyler," the young man said as he clasped his hand together, seemingly praying that I understand what he's saying, "your daughter is menstruating."

"But she's only six."

"I understand this could be confusing..."

"It's not supposed to be confusing- she's six, it's not normal."

"I agree it's not a normal case, however, I assure you, it's not something unheard of either."

I looked at my daughter and realized that there are so many things I have yet to understand about her and where she came from.

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