Trauma

It took me a little while to recover enough from the trauma of the event to write this post. Now, almost a week later, I am only flashing on it every 10 minutes instead of every minute.  Improvement.

It happened. The baby fell. The baby fell far. It was horrible, heart-breaking, disappointing, and by the grace of God, not terribly damaging. Charlotte was sitting in her Bumbo on the kitchen counter, as she did every day up until this event, when the dog decided she wanted to come inside. I walked into the laundry room and heard a thud. Thinking she knocked something off the counter, I peaked around the corner, and to my horror, saw my beautiful baby girl lying on the tile. Shaking and subconsciously holding my breath, I rush to her, scoop her up and begin assessing her. She is crying, her head is completely intact, everything on her body looks normal and unharmed. I rush to the phone, call Jeremy and tell him what just happened. He was about half way to work and immediately turned around and came home. I called the ER. I called a good friend who was the director of the ER. I called of pediatrician. I called anyone I could think of. The consensus was: keep an eye on her and bring her in if anything seems abnormal. But nothing did. She seemed completely fine. How is that possible? How could this sweet, fragile baby girl plummet from the top of the counter to the hard tile floor and escape unscathed? Maybe she is not so fragile... Jeremy, Charlotte and I sat on the couch for a while trying to recover from the horrifying experience. Charlotte was fast asleep and I held her tight, sobbing and apologizing. Never have I felt like such a wretched person. After her nap, she woke up smiling, and chatting. As if nothing had ever happened. If only I could have fallen asleep and forgotten so easily.

This sounds so dramatic. I know if someone else wrote this blog and I was reading it, I would think to myself, "The baby is fine, get over it." By all means, think that. But when it happens to you, and you find your own baby lying on the tile floor, and you don't know if she is going to be okay or not, come back and read this blog and tell me you didn't react the same way. I also know I have a lifetime of bumps and bruises ahead of me, but it is a little different when the accident was potentially life threatening. There is something a little different between a broken arm and a cracked skull. Also, when you are directly responsible for the accident, the guilt is overwhelming.

Obvious lesson learned: Do not leave baby unattended in Bumbo on any elevated surface. She may not be able to roll over, but she can somehow launch herself out of the seat.

Since the incident, I have put Charlotte back in the Bumbo at least 10 times and she has not ever come close to getting out. For the life of me, I cannot figure out how she did it. It will be a life-long mystery.

So, I am embarrassed to admit I was the irresponsible mother who let her baby fall off the counter, but I am so grateful to God that He protected her.

Jeremy told me that if she doesn't get into Stanford, he is blaming me.

I, however, know that she is a genius. The girl is practically talking in sentences already. Well, not exactly sentences, but close :)

Not much to report in the physical development department. No teeth. Not really rolling much. Still not a lot of hair. Her Uncle Ryan did comment that she is looking chubbier though. Maybe we'll break out of the 5th percentile by our next check-up!

I will write another post next week about my class and leaving her for the first time; but for now this post is getting too long.

As always, she is the biggest joy and blessing in our lives.