Dropping the baby
That careless moment can happen to anyone, and it’s scary, confesses this mom.

‘Ok don't freak out but...I er... I kind of dropped the baby...’ my husband mumbled sheepishly.
‘You WHAT?’ I screeched out at him. I could barely hear above the heart-wrenching shrieks in the background. I clutched my phone closer to my ear as I felt myself break out into a sweat.

‘He fell...the baby fell,’ he shouted.

‘What do you MEAN he FELL!?’ I yelled. I began to charge like an Olympic sprinter across the church parking lot. My legs felt like jelly as I scrambled for my car keys.

‘I picked him up in the car seat and it just kind of, well, flipped forward,’ hubby confessed.

The sobbing in the background was raising every hair on my body and I could feel the anger shooting up my spine. How could he have done this? 

‘Don't worry, he only fell onto the carpet...he wasn't even that high up...he'll be fine.’ Hubby's attempt at calming me was like a red rag to a bull: ‘I can't leave him alone with you once a week!’ I screamed, ‘you are NEVER babysitting again!’

As I raced home, my mind tossed around images of my baby covered with bruises or spurting blood from a gaping wound in his head. How much of an impact could a two-month-old withstand? And was hubby's reassurance just to avoid me driving like a maniac? Too late for that...

All babies fall, I tried to tell myself.  I mean my brother cracked his head open on a table and survived...and I was forever falling out of my walker wasn't I?  Bar the permanent dent in my forehead, it would seem I turned out okay.

After half an hour being tortured by red robots, I finally made it home. With my heart pounding, I flung open the front door. There, in a heap on the couch, was my poor husband. In his arms was our little bundle, curled up and sleeping soundly - with barely a scratch on him.

The relief flooded over me momentarily. After all, that adrenalin and anger had to have an outlet, didn't it? Let's just say I let rip. My poor hubby cowered as I unleashed the full force of a mother's wrath. I'm ashamed to admit a rampaging hippo protecting her young had nothing on me.

As baby awoke, he let out the most mournful howl.  I snatched him up and squeezed him tight, glaring at poor hubby.  ‘Just wait, you'll have your turn,’ he shouted, ‘one day you're going to drop him - then you'll see how it feels!’

Mom makes a catch

Five months later, with the incident (almost) forgotten, the horror of all horrors took place. And it's so seldom that my husband is actually right...

There I was, changing baby. I'd picked out a cute little blue number and was just reaching out to the cupboard for a vest. As I turned to face the change table, I could see my little boy falling, feet first, past the drawers.

In what felt like slow motion, I swooped down on him, grabbing him just before he hit the ground. My heart was throbbing in my throat. My ankle was skinned and bruised from where I'd hit the cupboard. But when it comes down to it I would have gladly broken all my bones to save him.

As he ventures into crawling mode, I just know there'll be more bumps and bruises in store for both of us.

And as for that first incident, let's just say I owe Hubby a somewhat humble apology!

Have you ever felt guilty when your baby or child fell or was in danger? Share in the box below.

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