Up until today, I was pretty sure it happened one night when our monitor stopped working unbeknownst to either of us. Our monitor is one of those voice-activated ones that has both lights and sound. Except one night, for some reason, the sound just stopped working. And my husband and I slept and slept. It wasn't until almost 4:00 am, that I turned to check the time and thought to myself "He's sleeping through the night at 1 month old! HE IS THE BEST BABY. EVER." And then reality set in when I saw that those little LED lights on the monitor were lit up a bright angry red and I could suddenly hear the cries of our tiny boy emanating from his room. I jumped out of our bed
And I thought: This is it. I'm a mommy.
But today, in slightly terrifying moment, I think it really happened.
I don't have to work today so my husband and I both got to sleep a little later and not have to wake up my precious little guy from his beautiful slumber.
We both got completely ready for our days and my husband retreated to his home office in our basement. As I made my way downstairs to get my coffee, I peeked into his room and saw his beautiful blue eyes open, shining, and happy to see me. We went about our morning routine: diaper change, reflux medicine...and the whole time he was smiling at me in the sweetest way. As I sat down to feed him, I changed my mind and decided to bring him downstairs to share his sweet little good mood with his daddy. I don't think I was going too fast. Not even taking my signature two-steps-at-a-time. But, before I even knew what was happening, my bare feet had slipped out from under me on our carpeted steps and I fell. Down only four steps on to our carpeted landing. But I fell. And I fell holding my sweet little baby.
You hear about those women who pull cars off of their babies in a moment of sheer panic. I couldn't stop our fall, but I squeezed him tightly to my chest in a way that defied all time and somehow managed to keep him safe in my arms as I landed solidly on my butt. I can tell you the sound of it all must have been terrible, the way my husband raced out of the basement to find us. There was one moment of silence. Two. And then this horrible cry came out of my sweet baby who almost never cries. I handed him to my husband so I could stand up and he held him tightly and asked me several times "Are you okay? Are you okay?" While I asked him several times "Is he okay? Is he okay?"
The baby was fine. Just scared. And crying.
Back on my feet, my husband pulled me in to hug me and I said "Can I have him? I want to hold him." And then it happened. My baby reached for me. All he wanted was me.
My husband pulled both of us in for a bear hug and our little guy's cries turned into little whimpers and then eventually adorable little laughs and smiles.
After what happened today, I'm sure I'll take steps more carefully than ever. I'll clear piles of bills and shoes off the steps to make sure there's nothing that could trip us. I might even think twice the next time I take him down to the basement.
But most importantly, I will never forget the moment when I squeezed that little body to mine as we took that terrifying spill and I thought: This is it. I'm a mommy.