Rae’s first tumble down the stairs happened on my watch. I wanted to be angry at my husband for turning back at the last minute to grab something else before heading downstairs with us all, but it happened on my watch. I’m the one who decided to throw some stuff in the wash on my way down, at the same precise moment that our toddler jet past me and propelled her giant head - atop that petit body - down the 16 steps that enabled far too many summersaults.
She was 20 months old at that point, and I was 36 weeks pregnant with Tommy. I was in front of her at first, but my giant, slow, and clumsy body let her squeeze past me, thinking that our cautious girl would wait for me at the top of the stairs like she normally does. However, I did not take into account her momentum as she excitedly approached the stairs, and I did not have the ability to bend down and reach for her. As I watched her plummet head-first, then chased after her rolling body - violently screaming from my suppressed gut, yet failing to stop her fall - I swear I thought I was going to lose them both! Those 16 steps and white handrails made for the longest f-ing flight downstairs, ever, in the shortest amount of time!
By the time I did manage to scoop her up in my arms, at the very bottom of the stairs, she only let out a minute-long cry from the shock, but it was enough to pierce my nerves for eternity. Her neck could have landed the wrong way, her head could’ve banged against the wooden rails, her limbs could’ve been trapped and dislocated from accidentally getting stuck in between those rails, her spine could’ve shattered, soooo many things could’ve gone wrong during that tumble! The only saving grace was that she was not an infant anymore, and the stairs were carpeted.
As she rather quickly started to laugh and play again, I finally felt the tight knot that had formed in my throat, the pain in my overstretched vocal cords, and veins throbbing around my bulging belly. Phew! No contractions yet. Then I shut myself in the bathroom and ugly-cried, silently, for the next 5 minutes.
That same day, after Rae woke up from her nap and wanted to head downstairs, she approached the top of the stairs with even more caution than she had in the past. After an initial whimper, she waited to hold my hand, so she could then slowly proceed, one foot at a time, counting down those 16 steps.
40 hours later, I gave birth to baby #2...who, as we have discovered, throws caution to the wind ever so whimsically. Needless to say, we have several baby gates in the house now.
