The first bump

A has always been a clingy baby. She’s a lot like me in that she loves company and does not play well alone. If it were up to her, she would be permanently attached to my hip. I would love to be able to indulge her in this, but she isn’t exactly getting any lighter, plus it’s not realistic. I am extremely adept at doing things one handed, but some things require two hands.

The hardest part of the day right now without John is definitely morning time. Having no extra set of hands at our busiest time is a challenge. I do my best to get as much done before A is up and ready for the day, but inevitably there are things I need to do after she’s up, which means I have to put her down.

Anyway, what I’m getting to is, this morning I put A down while I was getting her bottles packed up for daycare. I usually put her in her highchair, but this morning I figured it would take longer to wrestle her in there than it would to just get the bottles and go, plus she’s starting to test her mobility so she doesn’t like being constrained. So I just put her down on the floor outside the kitchen. A has taken to rocking back and forth whenever she gets excited, and after I put her down this morning I was singing and talking to her to keep her from getting upset. She was rocking and sneezed a HUGE sneeze at the same time. The sneeze caused her to tumble over. Unfortunately, she did not tumble backwards, where there was a pillow to catch her, but instead she tumbled forward and to the side, where she caught her forehead on the edge of the door frame.

I was only about a foot away from her and was able to scoop her up a nanosecond after it happened, but it was about two nanoseconds too late. There was screaming. And there were tears. Oh, were there tears…

After she calmed down, I looker her over and there appeared to be no permanent damage. She was all smiles when I strapped her into the car seat and was happily handed over to her teacher at daycare. About ten minutes after leaving, though, I got a call from daycare about the “huge knot on her head,” and I automatically felt like the crappiest mom ever.

I explained to them what happened, they said okay, and I spent the rest of my day vacillating between worrying daycare was going to call Child Protective Services and report me for abuse and contemplating leaving early to take her to the doctor to have it checked out. I ended up trusting my instinct, that she was fine, and if there was anything truly wrong daycare would call. They never did. When I picked her up this afternoon, she was The Happiest Baby again. The first thing I did was feel her head, and the “huge knot” appears to have gone down significantly without bruising. And no one called CPS (go figure). No one even mentioned it when I got her.

I know this is the first of many bumps and bruises she’ll get, and they’re inevitable, bound to happen to all babies as they grow. But I still feel bad about it. As moms, what we want more than anything is to protect our children from everything that can hurt them, and in a small way I feel like I let her down.

Which is stupid, because judging by the smiles and sugar she’s been giving me all evening, there is no love loss between us. I guess we’ll just chalk this one up to mommy learning experiences.

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