I fell down. That is right, at 5 months pregnant I totally fell down some fucking stairs. I am OK and I am pretty sure my baby is OK (AAH!) but can you believe it?
We were having a perfectly nice evening on Friday. Our friends took us to see a live performance of the Rock Opera, The Who’s TOMMY. It was a great show, lots of fun with some pretty fantastic performances. The set design was amazing and the technical feats of the show were totally impressive.
On the way out, we left through a side door that the performers use when exiting the stage, so it was pitch black. I thought we would be funneled directly onto the street, but there were stairs I was unaware of and the next thing you know I am falling down them.
It was a very Hitchcockian moment where time turned to slow motion and I seemed to fall forever. These thoughts ran through my mind: “I am falling. I am pregnant and I am falling down stairs. How many stairs are there? Am I going to do the head-over-heals thing like they do in movies? This is going to suck.”
Finally BOOM! I landed like a ton of bricks on the landing below 5 steps. There were people swarming me trying to see if I was OK. Everything sort of went black and calm and I did not move a muscle as I took inventory of the situation. I did not hit my belly. I landed on my right side and back. Nothing broken. No blood. No shooting pain. I gave the baby a good jolt, however, what does this mean to his precarious development? This is when the tears came and I wanted to shout out that I am pregnant, that I am afraid for my son.
But I did not. I quietly got up with help from my friends and hobbled to the car.
This is where I am lucky. I did not fall on my stomach. I did not fall on the unlevel part of the stairs that could have broken my back. I did not put out my hand to break my fall, which would have certainly broken my arm. I did not hit my head on the concrete (I thought this was a miracle, but apparently my friend J was able to catch my head in his hands before it struck).
I am, however, in a great deal of pain. I have bruises and aches, just about everywhere. I landed on my right side and back, but I must have struck something on the way down with the left side of my body. I think a pole or some equipment went up my left buttock, because that is where most of the pain is and causes a pronounced limp. It is agony to sit down, so I may have chipped or badly bruised my tailbone. This sucks, because what do I do at work all day? Sit on my ass. My now broken ass. Soccer players break their feet, office workers break their ass.
The worst part is the not knowing how this could have harmed my son. My friend loaned me her Doppler, so I can hear the heartbeat is still strong, and I am not having any cramping or bleeding. I see my doctor on Thursday, but not sure what she can tell me. If he was damaged in any way will be a mystery until he pops out or later shows signs of a learning disability. Just add it to the list of fears that come with child rearing. It is pretty distressing. Odds are, he is fine, but I can’t help but be upset, why did this have to happen? Do I have the capability to get this kid out in one piece?