Tumbles and Rick Astley (not necessarily in that order...)

Now that I am working at home, I have had to find ways to deal with the deafening silence that surrounds me once Grace and Aaron leave the house in the morning. Luckily, my hubby had the foresight to sign us up for Sirius satellite radio a while back, and lo and behold, I can sign into our account from my laptop and browse the couple hundred of stations that are offered. At first, I listened to Christmas music exclusively, because, well, it was Christmas time, but now I have discovered an all-80's music station and I LOVE IT. I have heard Rick Astley not once but TWICE today. Rock on...

************************************************************************
Well, it finally happened...

Anyone who has visited our home knows about The Stairs. We live in an older home and the stairs leading from our first floor up to the second floor are impossibly steep. Climbing them when one is not pregnant can be daunting, but when one is pregnant, climbing (and descending) our stairs is a particular challenge. Not only does one lose her breath easily while climbing the stairs, but the steepness of the staircase in even more unnerving when your center of gravity is all wonky. We are actually planning some home renovations in the upcoming year, and one of the things we plan to deal with is the situation with The Stairs.

Lots of people--my parents, my in-laws, my friends, my doctor--have pleaded with me to take our stairs with caution now that I am expecting so that I don't fall. I have lived in this house for a year and a half now, and I have been pregnant for almost seven of those months, and I have not fallen...until last night. It was inevitable. I am quite possibly the clumsiest person around.

I had just put Grace to bed, and I had just finished closing the child gate that we have at the top of our stairs. I was deep in thought about what I wanted to get accomplished now that Grace was in bed. I turned around to head down the steps, and my heel slipped out from under me when I was on the top step, and I fell on my back alllllllllllllllllll the way down to the second step from the bottom. It happened so quickly that I barely knew what was happening, and I barely had a chance to grab the railing to stop myself from falling all the way into the kitchen. Aaron came running from the living room to see what happened (a preggo falling down a flight of stairs does cause quite a ruckus, after all) and all I could do was sit on the bottom step and weep. My back hurt. My ass hurt. The hand I used to grab the handrail was throbbing. The back of my left arm hurt. And, I was terrified that I had somehow hurt the baby.

After a few moments, Aaron coaxed me off of the steps and onto the couch. After I had settled down a bit and regained feeling in my hand, I debated whether or not I should call the doctor. I had remembered reading in one of my pregnancy manuals that even if you don't hit your belly in fall, you should still call your practicioner if you fall during pregnancy. I debated calling my mom to see what she thought (since she works in an OB office), but I didn't want to alarm her. I finally decided to call the obstetrician on call, and after telling her that I fell on my back, not my belly and was not having any contractions or bleeding and that I was feeling the baby move, the doctor told me that I shouldn't have anything to worry about pregnancy-wise. Then, she told me to take plenty of Tylenol because I was going to be sore.

And let me tell ya, I am sore. The worst of it is my tailbone, which I think took the brunt of the fall. It hurts to sit down, even on our cushy sofa. I also have a nasty bruise on my back, a couple of bruises on the back of my arm, and a bruise on my hand.

Moral of the story: Pay attention when using The Stairs. Wear grippy slippers on The Stairs. Heck, for the remainder of pregnancy, just make Aaron escort me up and down The Stairs.

Also, I should probably call my mother to tell her this happened before she has a chance to read this.

Also, sadly, it appears as though Mexican food and I are no longer on speaking terms. And I can't even talk about that or I might cry.