Friday 8 June 2007

Throw the Baby Down the Stairs

When Sebastian was about 4 months old he was invited to his first birthday party. Brooke, the little girl who lived next door to us (when we lived in Windsor) was celebrating her 2 year birthday.

This was Sebastian's first birthday invitation but given he was only 4 months old I am sure I was more excited than he was.

I raced around like a blue a** fly getting myself ready and getting Sebastian ready because god knows it takes a new mother all day to do this. I had both of us all dressed without any vomit, spit up or poo on us. I even had managed to get makeup including lipstick on.

I was racing down the stairs so that we would be ready to leave the minute daddy walked in from his hard day at the office.

I have this rather bad habit of piling things up on the steps to go upstairs. I blame my mother. She always did it when I was a child and now I do it. Frankly, even if she didn't I'd still blame her. She doesn't mind.

There was a huge pile of magazines that needed to be taken upstairs that I had put there that morning. In my rushing down the stairs with a baby in my hands, I forgot about the pile of magazines. My foot hit the magazines. The magazines flew up in the air as my foot slipped. Sebastian slipped out of my arms.

Time stopped. In ever so slow motion, I saw Sebastian flying through the air. I saw my arms reaching out to catch him. I saw my hands miss. I saw him hit the steps. I saw him bounce down the last couple of steps. I saw my body falling from forward motion almost land on him. at the last minute, time sped up and I threw myself sideways over the side of the stairs and hit my face on the wall and wedged my shins in on the bottom of the side of the stairs.

I freed myself by just picking up my feet and slumping to the ground in the hallway. I crawled to Sebastian who had done the silent scream as he hit the ground quickly followed by the blood curdling scream of intense shock. I tell you, I could have been paralyzed and still gotten to him.

I gathered him up into my arms and rocked. He wasn't bleeding. His head wasn't caved in. He stopped crying. Marc walked through the door to find Seb & I crumpled in a mess on the floor at the foot of the stairs. I mumbled through my tears what happened.

We rushed off to the hospital. Because Seb was so young, they looked him all over and made sure he was OK. Once he got the green light, we realised my nose was bleeding and my shins were all cut up. I hadn't even noticed. And I didn't care.

Mum of the Year Moment! I still feel guilty. I never stack magazines on the stairs. And if he fails at life he can blame me for throwing him down the stairs!


Janell said...

When Jack was three days old, I let him get dumped face first out of a car seat. I totally recognize that moment of panic. I think my children have grown up strong and healthy in spite of me and not because of me!
I've had several moments when I thought, "Someone should just come and take custody of these kids before I do irreparable harm!" But then I realized that no one but a mother can say, with more love in their hearts, "If you fall down from there and break your neck, don't come crying to me!!!"
Your description of the fall was so vivid - I pictured every second of it and relived it with you as I read, not to mention the panic you must have felt.

JMarie said...

Thanks for sharing. Makes me feel better...Maxie has been taking his share of falls lately. I dread the first hospital run -- it is probably inevitable with my little dare-devil. I just pray it is for a simple cut/bruise and not a concussion or broken bone.

Shirley said...

Whoa -- you had me holding my breath with that description.

Sue said...

When Joe was somewhere between, 1 & 2, he had a riding toy. One day the basement door was open and Cindy, probably 7 or 8, was at the bottom of the stairs with a laundry basket. Joe got too close to the stairs and away he went tumbling down. Cindy dropped the clothes and caught him just before his head hit the basement floor.
I am sure she saved him from serious injury and/or a trip to the hospital. After that I put a push lock on the basement side of the door so I could go out the walkout to the clothes line without worring about anyone falling down the steps. I bet the next owners wondered why there was a lock on that side of the door.