I wanted to write about this earlier today because I was so devastated about it, but I couldn’t post it yet because I hadn’t told my husband what had happened.
My worst mothering nightmare up until this point happened today. M fell down the stairs. It hurts just writing it.
I was playing with him on the floor while his breakfast was heating up in the microwave (amaranth and plum swirl – he loves it!). He had spent the prior 10 minutes on his back playing quietly with his toys, so when the microwave timer sounded, I figured he’d stay put long enough for me to get his breakfast out to let it cool off just a bit. I was wrong. I heard two thuds and I felt sick to my stomach.
We have an open staircase to our basement with a landing after 6 steps. When I heard the thuds, I gasped and looked around the corner to where he was supposed to be. I was hoping the sound I heard came from a couple of arguing cats. M was not there. That’s when I heard the cry as I ran down the steps. From the sounds of things, he surfed head first down the stairs on his belly because there were no rolling thuds. THANK G0D! He was on the landing with his head up against the trim. The first thud was him hitting the landing. The second was his head hitting the trim.
Ugh.
He did not wail, but he cried for about 10 seconds in my arms before calming down and then smiling at me. I checked him over for physical harm and it appears that he only has the one scuff on his forehead. I just cannot believe that it happened, but more importantly, I cannot believe we were so lucky that he’s so unharmed.
M happily ate his breakfast and played afterwards as though nothing had happened. But I will never forget it. I hurt my baby today, and that makes me cry.
I told B about it prior to dinner with a friend. I didn’t want him to notice the scuff on M’s head and ask me in front of our friend what had happened, and I certainly couldn’t lie about it. I arrived at dinner before our friend and said, “something happened today that you need to know. M fell down the stairs. He’s fine, thank G0d. I’m sorry.” I said it with tears in my eyes, on the verge of crying. B handled it well. He said that my own agony about the situation requires nothing else to be said. He is right. Nothing he could say (and he wouldn’t say anything hurtful to me about it, but I expected him to be upset) could possibly make me feel worse than the memory I’ll have about this for the rest of my life. I will always know the sound of those two thuds.
M, when you read this entry when you’re older, please know how sorry I am! And please don’t blame some future bad grades or something on this incident. Please know that I’ll be doing plenty of that on me own 😉