The second week of December I was rushing out of the house on my way to a funeral and I neglected to step carefully down the ice-covered front stairs. My feet flew out from under me and I landed first on the back side of my right thigh and then flipped forward onto my right knee with my hands and face in the snowy yard. Good times. I considered myself very blessed that I wasn’t carrying Gulliver or the food that I was taking for the funeral luncheon. I limped around for a few days and then sported a hand-print sized bruise on my leg for a few weeks. Eventually the swelling in my knee went down, and although the bruising on the bone continues to sometimes limit my activities, I feel like I am on the mend.
The first week of January I was rushing up the stairs, sorting and packing to attend my grandmother’s funeral, and I missed a step and fell. Although I was carrying Gulliver, I was blessed that I kept him from hitting the ground. This time my left knee took the brunt of the fall. Luckily, although I limped for a day or two, the injury was really quite minor.
Last Thursday I was leaving the house on my way to buy food to prepare for, strangely, another funeral, and I lost my balance going down the front step. Me, the two bags I was carrying, and Gulliver hit the ground. Well, Gulliver didn’t hit the ground, because the only thought I had in that half a second before I hit the cement was, “don’t let the baby hit the ground!” Thank goodness he didn’t. Seriously. My right knee, however, hit hard. Considering it was still sore from the December fall, you can imagine the throbbing and pain from hitting it again. I stayed on the ground for a second to assess the damage, cursing my current clumsiness. I had ripped a hole in the knee of my jeans, my left hand was scraped up, and my left ankle was a little sore. When I sat up and checked my knee it was scraped and bleeding a little. Oh, my luck. I gathered everything up, loaded the car, and continued on my errand, complaining and moaning only minimally (promise!). I limped a little, and my knee throbbed with pain, but I assumed the worst was over.
I was wrong. Slowly, throughout the afternoon, my back started hurting. By the time evening rolled around I could barely walk upright and ended up sitting in the nursing chair with Gulliver (after he fell asleep) until Somebody got home from school and could transfer Gulliver to the crib for me because I was unable to stand up holding him. Friday morning Somebody left for work at the normal time, but he wasn’t even all the way to his office (he has an hour commute) before I called him crying and told him there was no way I was going to be able to parent successfully when I could not walk or carry Gulliver. He came back home and took care of us all day Friday. And Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. You don’t have to tell me how about what a good person he is. I know. Believe me, I know. Today, finally, I cam feeling better was able to actually spend most of the day not resting on the couch. Thank goodness, because Somebody had to get back to work.
There was, however, a silver lining. Gulliver has decided that he no longer requires rocking or walking or bouncing or help of any kind in going to sleep. He really prefers to nurse and then immediately be placed in his crib to fall asleep on his own. I know that this is the ideal kind of baby-sleep situation and I do count it as a blessing. I also miss holding and snuggling a sleeping baby. He has to be really, really tired to fall asleep in my arms. Friday, the day my back was hurting the worst and the day I spent a total of probably one hour up and moving around the house, didn't shower, and cried a lot, was also the day that this happened. Twice.
Man, he loves cell phones.
