Dear Z,
Yesterday, we took a fall.
I was pushing you in the stroller, without Sweet Dog for once (she had her very own playdate which you didn't quite understand). It was sunny but cool and we were headed back home because your aunt, uncle and cousin were coming over for dinner. We were rushing.
(Is it ever a shock when these stories include "we were rushing"?)
I had taken one of our longer loops which I knew was a risk. All day you'd been tired, a bit fussy, not terribly agreeable. A 45 minute walk was ambitious given your mood but I chose it anyway because it was such a beautiful day and I wanted the exercise.
My first mistake.
I was singing (our one and only effective distraction technique for your impatience) and my out of breath, slightly off-tune rendition of the "Wheels on the Bus" was wearing thin with you. "Almost home" I said as I navigated a nasty tree-root-created sidewalk hazard a few blocks from home. The same hazard that tripped us up last summer. The one that sent us both flailing on the sidewalk, your face and my leg bruised but okay. The one that causes me to shudder and relive that moment EVERY single time I pass it as I remind myself to PAY ATTENTION (bleepity bleep) and keep you safe.
We were "almost there!". I was "looking both ways!". I was taking a oh-so-slightly different angle off the curb because I was rushing and you were impatient and out of snack and I was out of breath and out of things that make sounds on the bus.
I didn't notice that there was a section of curb missing. My second (fifty-first?) mistake.
We went down.
You first.
Me on top of you.
There were no sounds.
(There are NO WORDS.)
Gasping. Pleading. Lifting you up.
Blood on your face.
"OhmyGodOhmyGodOhmyGod."
You cried, shocked, and licked your bleeding lip. I reached for my cellphone and called for backup- your dad- telling him to meet us on the corner.
We checked your teeth, your tongue, your pupils. You had some road rash on your chin and a cut on your lip. I started to cry.
At home, Dad cleaned you up while I hid my tears from you. Within a few minutes you were off playing with your tea set and I was still crying, filled with guilt and terror.
I will be more careful. I will buy a safer, longer jogging stroller. Maybe I'll just stop taking long walks with you entirely since you are getting impatient with the stroller and your impatience gets to me. I lose focus, cut corners (literally), go just a little too fast.
I will not be able to get the tumbling, sickening image of the fall out of my head.
I will not sleep well for a while.
You are okay and I am so grateful.
And I am so, so sorry.
love,
your Clueless But Hopeful Mama
3 comments:
Oh, poor baby. And poor mama. Give her a big hug and a kiss from those crazy internet folks.
Oh, hon, I am so sorry! How scary! Remember when I let Z take a digger with the evil doll stroller? Be as kind to yourself as you were to me
love
K
yeah. i can relate. i still beat myself up over thinking that phoebe could handle going down one step by herself at the playground. gravity played a big trick on both of us. :( a lip split in two places, i think the stair and perhaps her teeth may have done the damage. (shudder)
i wigged. i ran her in her stroller so fast 2 blocks back to the car, that i don't remember the last time i moved so fast. made the hysterical call to da-da, then the hysterical call to the pediatrician and then contemplated who else needed to hear my hysteria, grandma? you out in LA? anyone who will listen??aaaah? i had never felt so alone in my life. I suddenly felt completely overwhelmed.
The pediatrician called us in and put ice on it and said "well... she'll be fine....are you going to be fine?"
no stitches were needed and the insane baby antibodies and clotting mechanisms sealed it up in 2 days and now 1 week later, a stranger would never know it ever happened.
this motherhood thing throws some pretty hefty punches, just when i was thinking "oooh i made some new friends! oooh maybe things are looking up!" I should have known to just stay home when i had locked both P and I out of our apartment that morning (hey at least i locked both of us out and not just me--- clutching for silver linings at this point)
I have learned a new feeling of queasy-ness... the mommy queasies, I get whenever i imagine the playground stairs, or P falling in slow motion off her chair, etc etc etc. I find i'm getting that feeling more and more now that P is climbing, running, tumbling and saying "no mama no no no"
i just have the new mantra "we're all ok, things will happen, but we're all ok"
m.
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