Its inevitable, that first ER visit- and I guess I am fortunate that it was with my second child and not until she was 2. That didn't make it any less earth shattering for me.
S rolled down the stairs- all 12 of them. The stairs themselves are carpeted, but the landing- where she, um, landed- is not. S was lying on the top stair- I don't know why. I also don't know why I didn't notice she was lying on the top stair, I was right there. (this is sounding like 'There was an old lady who swallowed a fly'...) When I finally noticed she was lying on the stair, I ran over to her yelling "S! Don't roll!" At which point she looked up- and rolled. As I helplessly watched her roll all the way down the stairs, all I could do is say Oh God, oh god, oh god. She hit, she cried, she held her head- I picked her up, after seeing she moved her arms- trying to remember all the move/don't move rules. I saw a bruise forming right away, and thought, maybe its not so bad- but then the blood started.
I called J at work and told him to meet us at the ER, and then scrambled around trying to assemble S's shoes, my shoes, an icepack- I grabbed a bag of frozen soybeans. I couldn't find S's monkey, and eventually grabbed a kitty and left without him. I kept asking S if she was ok, "Yes" I told her we were going to the doctor- "Ok." She says. After what felt like the slowest drive across town ever, behind a trash truck, a bus, and more than one idiot- I got to the hospital, and saw J on the corner.
We took S in- she was smiling at everyone. Laughing, looking a little crazy with her blood soaked hair. She sat in the hospital room with her kitty on her lap, eating frozen soybeans and not flinching while the nurses cleaned up her cut and glued it up.
Once we came home, I tried hard to get her to sit still which she was having none of. We kept her up the requisite 6 hours after the fall- which was just a little bit past her usual bedtime. Right back to business as usual.