No More Monkeys Jumping on the Bed…
Or should I say – No more babies ROLLIN’ off the bed.
Ellie is six months old, she rolls over with ease and scoots on her elbows and is making crawling motions with her knees.
And something tells me that today was the day that we crossed the line from quasi-mobile to really g*d damn fast.
Here is my evidence:
I was at work and my nanny called me at 12:10pm. My nanny never calls. She texts, she emails, but she never calls because perhaps she has heard me reference how busy my day typically is. When I answered, I had one of those phone calls that took a couple moments to actually sink in.
NANNY: “Hi…um, I was changing Ellie’s diaper and we were playing and she was laughing and I turned around for one second and she fell off the bed…”
ME: “OK. Is she crying?”
NANNY: “She has calmed down but she cried right away”
ME: “How did she land?”
NANNY: “On her face..”
ME: “OK…is she bleeding, does she appear hurt or dazed?”
NANNY: “She is totally responsive..”
Then one of my coworkers asked what was going on, and I explained that Ellie fell off the bed…and in unison a couple of them said “Go home…we’ll take care of everything.”
ME: “OK, Im coming home. I’m not mad. I just want to make sure she is okay.”
As I was walking out of the office, I picked up my pace as the reality of what had just happened sunk in.
Ellie got hurt and I wasn’t there to stop it.
I ran down the escalator and hopped in a cab, calling my sister at the same time. She was at my mom’s house and they gave me the things to look out for, I briefly let my mind go to the worst case scenario and asked about brain bleeds and such…and then I hung up and finished what felt like the second longest cab ride of my life…The first longest was when I was having preterm contractions at 6 months, and was trying to get to NYU Medical Center during rush hour.
I had the same bizarre sense of calm…which is interesting given that very few people would describe me as calm.
Wildly inappropriate at times? Yes. Calm? No.
As I sat in the cab, I thought back to those contractions, and the c-section, and leaving the hospital as a single mom…a number of other moments that I was scared out of my mind – but had no choice but to be brave. While the seconds dragged on in the cab – I thought back to the moment I held Ellie for the first time and I just stayed in that moment until we were at my front door.
It felt like an eternity went by.
The cab fair was $5.50…which all of you New Yorkers know means the ride actually took about 32 seconds.
I ran inside, and took a smiling but slightly shell-shocked Ellie out of the nanny’s arms. I stopped myself from visualizing what it was like for her to hit the floor face first. I emailed the doctor and she said the same thing that my mom and sister said, “It’s a good sign she cried right away, keep an eye out for vomiting, and she said to put ice on the bump on her head for as long as she will allow.”
Um…Ellie doesn’t allow me to wipe her face with a damp cloth…so we can forget about any ice situation happening.
It was her nap time, so I rocked her to sleep and told the nanny it was okay, but we really need to watch her more carefully.
Later tonight, I was giving Ellie a bath and I started crying.
The trigger came from the smallest moment – Ellie had looked up at me with her big Ellie eyes and it hit me that she loves me and is totally relying on me – and that aside from a few bumps in the road (and on the head) – I am doing this mom thing the best of my ability.
This is hard. And as I was showering tonight after I put Ellie to bed for the night, I thought to myself about all the times people ask me how I am doing this.
Here is how…with the people that overheard my conversation at work and said “Just go.” And from my good friend and coworker that put her hand on my shoulder and said, “It’s going to be okay, call us later and let us know how she is.” And from my mom and my sister and my friends that called to ask how Ellie was, and then asked how I was.
Just knowing someone gets it, whatever the “it” of the day is…gives me what I need to be brave even when I am really scared.
Since no blog is complete without a picture of Ellie…see below…this kid sits like a 13-year-old boy…one knee up, arm hanging out.