A dreaded sound

Last night I laid my little man on the couch on the same pillow I always have squashed up against the back cushion like I always do, so my husband and I could go clean up the kitchen. We weren't in there for longer than 2 minutes when we heard a horrible "thud", and we both looked at each with a look of terror in our eyes. We dropped everything and ran for the couch as the screaming started. My heart dropped to my stomach as we rounded the couch and found him lying on the floor. Jeff scooped him up and began to try to console him while checking him to make sure all was okay. I was a crying fool and all I could say was "I'm sorry baby". Through all the colicky nights, we never heard him cry like this. He couldn't catch his breath. When he was finally calmed down, he had those crying hiccups....my poor, sweet little man!

You're Momma felt like the most horrible Momma on the planet. How could I be so dumb? How could I let my little one get set up to hurt himself? How could I ever forgive myself if something bad were to come of this? So then the nurse in me comes alive, and I'm feeling him all over to see if he cries out, checking his pupils, looking for clear or bloody fluid from his orifices, and feeling his head. Nothing that we could see was acutely wrong. Thank goodness, Jeff was home with me. He was able to keep his composure for us. "It won't be the last time he gets hurt," he says. Ugh, just the beginning of many bumps and bruises for our little boy. I just hope that none are Momma induced. The only good thing about this is that he can roll now with a little help from a pillow at an incline. No more couch time by himself!