Babies get fevers. Babies eat things off the floor (although, when I called the after-hours emergency care, the lady answering the phone did yell “oh no!” in a pretty alarming tone). Babies fall off beds…apparently, when I did it, my nose started bleeding.
I was the one “in charge” when Gracie fell off the bed. I was literally two inches away from her. One minute she was happily playing with a pillow and the next she was a screaming heap on the floor. My heart stopped, I grabbed her, running and screaming for Parke, almost running outside with her before I realized the whole reason I’d taken my eyes off her in the first place was to put on pants (darn pants)…in the midst of running around like a chicken with my head cut I realized the baby was no longer screaming. In horror, I looked down, fully expecting to find her passed out against my chest. Instead, I found a sly grin which soon turned in to a deep giggle.
Minutes later, baby happily chowing down on banana yogurt with nary a bump in sight, I realized that this was going to be one of the hardest parts of motherhood for me. Not letting my mind “go there”. That yes there were going to be bumps in the road and tears along the way, but most of the time they would end with a giggle and some banana yogurt (or, when she wizens up, chocolate ice cream).