Isaac made it just over three months before he needed his first emergency doctor’s appointment. I don’t remember how old the other kids were for theirs, but I have to admit there’s a tiny sliver of relief: there. The first one is done, we can stop wondering when it will happen. And maybe not we can just avoid future mishaps, thankyouverymuch.
Because this one was horrid, both in its results and in its sheer avoidability.
The short version: he rolled off the couch and landed face-first on the floor. Ugh. His nose is all bruised and swollen now, poor little bug.
The longer version is that Willem laid him down for a nap, because Isaac fell asleep mid-bottle. Willem decided a nap seemed like a good idea, so he handed the reigns over to me; I was sitting at the kitchen table finishing my lunch. I assumed Willem had lined the edge of the couch and the floor in case Isaac decided to make his first rollover attempt then, and he assumed I would be moving to the couch shortly… we both assumed wrong. When Isaac started to fuss a little, I asked Jacob to go chat with him while I cleared my dishes, and apparently Jacob decided (for the first time) to roll Isaac onto his back, and then come tell me about it. And it turns out that Jacob didn’t need to tell me, because the whole house, the whole neighborhood, perhaps the whole state, vibrated with the awful thud of a small body hitting the floor.
A group effort, then, of small and avoidable moments, that resulted in the baby landing effectively face-first on the hardwood floor. Oh, my heart hurts. That thud, and the immediate outraged and hurt baby cries, have just been echoing in my head since then.
The good news is, he did cry right away, which means he never lost consciousness. He didn’t truly land face-first; he slid down the edge of the couch, which slowed and cushioned his fall a little bit. So his nose is swollen and bruised, but not as badly as it might otherwise have been. And no other body parts were harmed in the making of this guilt-infested misery.
It was early afternoon, so I was able to take him to the pediatrician instead of the emergency room, and he reassured me that Isaac is fine, told me what to watch for, patted me on the head and sent me on my way.
Isaac stopped crying within five minutes, and has been his normal happy, smiley, Zen little self ever since. Me, well… I’m reminding myself that accidents happen and that guilt helps nothing. And am enjoying his grins without focusing on the poor little nose every time.
His is the youngest baby-incident… I know that Jacob fell off his changing table, onto a pillow, when he was seven or eight months old, and that Emily pinched her hand in the hinge-side of the front door hard enough to lose her thumbnail when she was about 17 months old. And I’ve recovered from those sickening-guilt feelings, so chances are I’ll forgive myself for this one, too.
But still. Thud.
Help me out here, people. Tell me your own horror stories… as long as they have a happily-ever-after at the end. Remind me that kids survive stuff, and that accidents such as this do not a horrible mother make.