My daughter fell. From a pretty high height. She fell off of her diaper changing table.
On my watch.
She cried. I cried (harder than her). She bruised and healed, and I still felt the guilt of her falling and hurting herself.
I am her mom. Her mother. I gave her life. And I watched her fall and get hurt.
Now, this was a few weeks ago but I am still reminded of what happened daily when I change her clothes or change her diaper. So, to combat this reminder, and to reduce the potential fall factor, I started changing her on the floor. Can’t fall from there.
My 11-month-old wiggle worm cannot stay still. Not even to get a diaper change. So even though the floor is now a huge changing mat, it is still a struggle to get her changed or dressed.
Today I was tired, today I was achy and not in the mood to wrestle a diaper onto a crying baby who just wanted to move.
So I took off the dirty diaper, wiped the baby bubble butt and let her go. Onesie undone and one sock on, she crawled around her room, onto her toys and finally focused on playing with her rocking chair.
She’s laughing as I’m watching this miracle of life play and have fun in front of me. I am in awe of how much she has grown and her personality. And even though I’m tired, I wouldn’t change anything for the world. So I grabbed her to blow raspberries on her belly and join in on the fun.
When I snagged her I noticed her thighs were a little wet. “You better not have peed,” I told her. Nah, she couldn’t have peed, I’ve been watching her – must be from the wipes.
Mind you, when I put her down her cheetah-print hooded head was rolling all over the floor near her rocking chair.
I put her diaper on, while snapping her onesie it feels damp. “You seriously better not have peed.”
Concerned, I look for a wet spot on the carpeted floor, no spot. I inch closer to the chair and sniff and rub the carpet.. feels a little wet. Smells a little like pee.
I look at my little girl and give her a defeated look and pull her in for a hug. I wrap my hands around her and brush against her hood. Her sweatshirt up to her hood is completely soaked.
I quickly undress her and stand up to put her on the changing table away from the urine soaked carpet and I notice the wet stains on the knees of my brand new leggings.
I stealthy change her all without one peep or wiggle from my maniac mover. I look down at my newly clothed baby who is smiling up at me and her eyes are sparkling with joy. That’s when I realize she’s up on the changing table and I was ok, and more importantly, so was she!
It still amazes me that I am responsible for this little life. She is mine and I am hers. There comes a point as parents when we have to let go of the guilt we carry and be in the present with our babies.
For me, that was the whole pee-on-the-floor thing.
You’re not alone moms and dads, babies cry, parents cry. Then life goes on, faster than most of us ever imagined. So be in the present, learn from the past and look forward to the many more adventures in the future.