So it happened - the thing every parent dreads and tries to avoid - the first fall. I should specify: the first fall that was my fault. I left Nugget on the changing table far too long while we were packing up the car to go on a day trip. Normally he's pretty content there, picking up (clean) cloth diaper covers and other accoutrements. The table is flush against the washing machine, so no way he could roll off... And yet, he fell. His little legs were hanging over the front edge a bit, so somehow he scooted down (scooting? so that's a thing now?) and fell. All I heard was a thud and then immediately a loud, angry cry. I thought I knew all of Nugget's loud, angry cries but this was a new one, a cry beyond any I have heard before.
Rush to the kitchen - find baby on the floor, face down. Panicked, I picked him up gently. His face was red and furious, he was screaming, I was heartsick. No immediate sign of damage. My husband, recognizing that I was in full panic mode, took Nugget from me and started to calm him while I paced pointlessly and absorbed the guilt. Our baby cried and cried, but the cries got quieter and more normal. After a few minutes, he started nuzzling his dad's chest, so I breastfed him, and he quickly returned to normal. I thought about his fall - in order to get in the position on the floor, he must have fallen feet-first and then toppled over on his stomach. He had also managed to pull a sweatsuit down with him, partially breaking his own fall - he had been lying on top of it.
I Googled baby head injury symptoms and started monitoring Nugget's behavior. He was acting completely normal. He had no visible bumps or bruises, he had calmed down quickly, and when we eventually got in the car, he cooed and played with a toy like always. He didn't fall asleep, vomit, or act oddly. But I still felt so terrible.
No comments:
Post a Comment