(Preface: I didn't think I was going to have the strength to blog about this, but since what doesn't kill our babies makes them stronger...)
Two weeks have slipped by since our first day home with Stella. A couple of hours ago, hubs headed back to his job. (My mom took this week off from her job and is coming over to help me -- I think the plan is that she will entertain Stella while I clean up around the house. Part of me wishes she would do the cleaning up while I do the baby-holding, but it's her birthday today so I guess I'll let it slidespice.)
Um, anyway... I digress. (I'm stalling.)
So, I have one of those super-stylin' My Brest Friend pillows, which straps around me like a fanny pack slash inner-tube... I just lay the babe on it and whip out the boobage...
It pretty much rocks.
Well, I'd gotten kind of confident using that pillow because I had it with me in the hospital. So, for instance, if I... say, dropped the remote or something, I would just place my arm around little Stella's hip and back, grip the front end of the pillow... and then execute a quick bendy-move to pick up the remote... or my pen... or whatever.
So, Thursday the 16th -- our very first night home -- it was the wee hour and I was feeding my littlebottomless-pit Stella when something... say, the remote, fell off the arm of the couch. Following the formula above, I went down to retrieve it...
I. flipping. dropped. Stella.
In truth, I didn't really drop her -- she more or less rolled off the pillow and onto the floor. She didn't even cry. She landed on her stomach. I have never moved so fast in my life! I got her up and inspected her -- deep breath, she was fine.
I called my sister, who is a nurse and works the night shift. She made me feel better by telling me about banging her daughter's head reallyreally hard when Carley was an infant. Whew. I guess it runs in the family; there's my excuse.
I wasn't going to tell my mom, but my sister told her for me. (I wasn't upset; I hadn't demanded she keep it quiet or anything.) My mom's reaction? Because she spoken to me over the phone between the time it happened and the time she found out, she laughed!
Apparently, she dropped me on my head when I will still a peanut. (No snide comments, guys... such as... oh, that'sssss what's wrong with her!) My mom was laying on the floor and had me up in the air looking down at her... and I just toppled out of her arms.
Okay, maybe it really does run in the family.
After Stella's acrobatic first week of life, I've decided that she is meant to be an Olympic medal-winning gymnast. Or, perhaps she'll do the high wire in the circus.
It's cool either way, as long as she doesn't marry a carnie.
Two weeks have slipped by since our first day home with Stella. A couple of hours ago, hubs headed back to his job. (My mom took this week off from her job and is coming over to help me -- I think the plan is that she will entertain Stella while I clean up around the house. Part of me wishes she would do the cleaning up while I do the baby-holding, but it's her birthday today so I guess I'll let it slidespice.)
Um, anyway... I digress. (I'm stalling.)
It pretty much rocks.
Well, I'd gotten kind of confident using that pillow because I had it with me in the hospital. So, for instance, if I... say, dropped the remote or something, I would just place my arm around little Stella's hip and back, grip the front end of the pillow... and then execute a quick bendy-move to pick up the remote... or my pen... or whatever.
So, Thursday the 16th -- our very first night home -- it was the wee hour and I was feeding my little
I. flipping. dropped. Stella.
In truth, I didn't really drop her -- she more or less rolled off the pillow and onto the floor. She didn't even cry. She landed on her stomach. I have never moved so fast in my life! I got her up and inspected her -- deep breath, she was fine.
I called my sister, who is a nurse and works the night shift. She made me feel better by telling me about banging her daughter's head reallyreally hard when Carley was an infant. Whew. I guess it runs in the family; there's my excuse.
I wasn't going to tell my mom, but my sister told her for me. (I wasn't upset; I hadn't demanded she keep it quiet or anything.) My mom's reaction? Because she spoken to me over the phone between the time it happened and the time she found out, she laughed!
Apparently, she dropped me on my head when I will still a peanut. (No snide comments, guys... such as... oh, that'sssss what's wrong with her!) My mom was laying on the floor and had me up in the air looking down at her... and I just toppled out of her arms.
Okay, maybe it really does run in the family.
 |
| Hold me tight, Mommy! |
The scariest part -- other than thinking about what could have happened had Stella landed differently, or how I been standing up in the kitchen or whatever when she fell -- was telling my husband.
He didn't give me too hard a time about it. He knew I felt so awful, and that it was an accident.
Comments
I have yet to actually drop Walelu so that she landed on the ground. I have, however, dropped her and caught her, and technically I sort of accidentally threw her once. After the first drop (I was trying to pull the burp rag out from between her body and mine, and kind of pulled her out of the curl of my arm) in which I caught her by one leg while she was rotating mid-air, I learned to have one hand around an appendage at all times. The second time I was 'flying' her around and, uh, my plane nearly crashed, but since I had a little fat baby leg in one hand, it was all good.
You're a great mommy Amber! :D
Mine was strapped in her car seat (the rear facing infant ones). I unbuckled it from the center truck seat belt and got out to take a armload of crap in the house. The minute my back was turned she rolled (car seat and all) out of the truck and landed right-side up in the driveway. Not sure HOW it happened, just glad the handle was up on the car seat at the time!
:)
She's a beautiful baby by the way.
Amy