I've never considered myself a klutz, but after the last two years I'm starting to rethink.
Friday morning I picked up MG and started downstairs for her nap. I slipped and landed on my tailbone, mostly underneath her, I thought. But I couldn't calm her down for half an hour.
I gave her a dose of ibuprofen, rocked and sang and snuggled her, and got her to sleep a few times. As soon as I put her down in her crib she started wailing again.
Eventually she fell asleep in the crib and I started making phone calls: Slice, mom, Dr's office, mom. (See how I am?) I decided to wait until she woke up, see how she was acting, and take her in to the clinic if I needed to. She woke up crying until I picked her up. I set her on the ground and she was fine. Then she tried to move ... and started screaming again.
I took her in.
We waited an hour for Dr. Staker but I couldn't complain; he wasn't even supposed to be there. He checked her out (screaming!) and ordered X-rays, which took another hour (much more screaming!). This was the worst part. They had to hold her legs out in order to get good shots from the hip down, and I couldn't be in there with her. They had to take more and more X-rays without a diaper, on the other side, etc. etc. It seemed to take forever.
Finally the word: broken left leg, just below the hip.
A cast for this injury would be a living nightmare - and because the fracture is still stable, we won't cast it unless we absolutely have to. MG only has pain when she moves that leg so I just try to keep her immobile. All things considered, she's doing all right. It could have been a WHOLE lot worse and we are counting our blessings.
Plus, I have some nice bruises.