Falling down while pregnant can land you in the hospital, like me

Falling down while pregnant can land you in the hospital, like me

Since finding out I was pregnant with my fifth child, I've been careful not to overdo it. Maybe it's because we lost our last baby. Every day I'm extra cautious not to pick up anything too heavy, or go up and down stairs too quickly. But I'm telling you, no matter how vigilant you are, everything can change in an instant like it did for me.

The other morning, I was waiting for the school bus with my daughter when, oddly, it passed us by. I guess the driver hadn't seen us. And brilliant me, I forgot for a moment I was 7 months pregnant, and began running after the bus. Except with my shifting center of gravity, it wasn't so much a run as a fall. I stumbled a few times, trying desperately to catch myself, but it was too late.

I'd like to say that in the seconds before my pregnant body made contact with the road, I was able to think fast and land in a way that protected my belly. But the truth is, I just fell. Hard. Mostly on my hands and knees, but soon I was lying flat on the ground, mere feet from the bus, and with my kids looking on in horror.

Neighbors had to help me to my feet, as I tried to take stock of my injuries. Hands cut and bleeding, check. Knees throbbing and dripping with blood. Check. Although I was in pain, the fear that I might have hurt my baby was the only thing I cared about.

Once back inside the house, I started crying uncontrollably. No really, what if my son wasn't okay? What if I lost him too? I phoned my doctor, who told me I should head to the hospital for monitoring, just in case.

My husband met me en route. Once I was checked in, a nurse hooked me up to two monitors: One to monitor the baby's heartbeat, and one to monitor contractions.

I lay in the hospital bed, finally able to reflect on what had happened. I'd fallen so easily. In a split second, I'd literally tipped over like a tree cut down at the roots. And now here I was in the hospital, fearing for my baby's health and safety. After everything we'd been through with losing our daughter, it was almost too much. The tears came easy as I watched the screen that showed the activities from the monitors, praying my clumsiness hadn't done any real damage other than cut up my knee and hands.


After about four hours, my doctor determined I was okay to go home. My baby's heart rate had stayed strong the entire time he was on the monitor, and I'd only had one contraction. I felt fine, unless you count being starving, and exhausted physically and emotionally.

Of course I was beyond thrilled to be discharged, with a clean bill of health. But I cried the entire way home from the hospital. I just couldn't stop thinking about how quickly things changed for us the last time we were expecting, and how close we could have come to something else really bad happening.

My takeaway from this harrowing experience is this: Firstly, you can never take anything for granted. Secondly, pregnant ladies, learn from my idiotic move, and be mindful of your always-changing center of gravity.

Now, I am so grateful to be sitting on the sofa, feeling my baby kick inside me, reminding myself how next time we "miss the bus," I'll just drive my daughter to school.

Opinions expressed by parent contributors are their own.


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