Because I had forgotten this, my daughter (1) had a very nasty accident

A mistake you never want to make

It was one of those weekends when you constantly feel just a bit too busy. Having guests over, toys scattered everywhere, Annabel crawling around trying to discover everything, but also attempting to walk – I felt like I was juggling a hundred things at once. Making coffee. Preparing snacks. Yet, I also found it enjoyable. I relished the conversations and laughter with our friends, Annabel receiving constant attention.

But by the end of the afternoon, I felt the fatigue really start to hit me

You know the feeling, that moment when you just want to flop on the couch and do nothing else. Luuk, my husband, was already busy clearing away the empty coffee cups, loading the dishwasher, and I was waving goodbye to the last guests. When the door closed, I sighed deeply. Finally, peace. Well, sort of.

Annabel was in top form that day

She had everyone wrapped around her little finger with her mischievous smile. But now she was starting to get tired, that was clear. She rubbed her eyes and became a bit whiny. “I'll put her to bed soon,” I said to Luuk, as I already grabbed her cuddly toy. I wanted to quickly wipe down the table and tidy up some toys before I took her upstairs.

And then it went wrong. Terribly wrong.

I heard it before I saw it

A dull thud. And then another. And another. The sound of something bouncing hard to the ground. No, not something. Someone. I froze, but my heart immediately started racing. “ANNABEL!” I screamed, as I ran to the hallway. Luuk arrived at the same time as me and we saw her lying there. At the bottom of the stairs.

She was lying on her side, crying

No, screaming. A raw sound that I had never heard from her before. It seemed as if everything was moving in slow motion as I rushed towards her. I knelt beside her and almost didn't dare to touch her. “Oh my god, oh my god,” I muttered. My hands were shaking as I carefully lifted her up. She was still moving, but her little face was red and her eyes wet with tears. A huge bump was already starting to form on her forehead.

“The stair gate…” I said, looking at Luuk. He was standing next to it, his face pale as a ghost. “We didn’t close it,” he whispered, more to himself than to me.

He immediately grabbed his phone and called the alarm number

I heard him speaking, but the words barely registered with me. I was completely focused on Annabel. She was still crying very hard, which was somewhat reassuring to me, because it meant she was still there. Yet, I could kick myself. How could we be so stupid? How did we not close that gate?

The minutes until the ambulance arrived felt like hours

Luke tried to calm me down, but I was beyond reach. I sat on the ground, rocking Annabel in my arms, while tears streamed down my cheeks. “I'm so sorry,” I whispered to her over and over. She kept crying, and that pounding in my head just kept going. The sound of her fall, I will never forget that.

When the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics took her from me

That moment was heartbreaking. They placed her on a stretcher – far too big for such a small body – and started to check her. I stood by, my arms empty, feeling completely useless. The lump on her forehead seemed to only get bigger. “She's crying well,” one of the paramedics said. “That's a good sign.” But all I could think about was everything that could be wrong.

We were helped immediately at the hospital

Annabel was thoroughly checked: her reflexes, her eyes, her little head. They took pictures to see if anything was broken. Luuk and I sat there, next to that much too large hospital bed, watching our little girl sobbing. I felt smaller than ever. I should have protected her. I should have closed that gate. How could I have let this happen?

“It seems she's getting off lightly,” the doctor finally said

“But we want to keep her overnight just to be sure. Sometimes the symptoms can appear later.” I just nodded. What else could I do? Luuk arranged a bag with essentials and then went back home to sleep. Someone had to be fit for the next day. I stayed with Annabel. I couldn’t leave her alone.

That night I barely slept

Every time she moved or made a noise, I would jump up. She had to be woken up every few hours. She might have had a concussion. You're not supposed to sleep through the night with that. She seemed to be calming down, but I kept doubting everything. I blamed myself. I should have paid more attention. What if she had something serious? What if... I pushed those thoughts away, but they kept coming back. I felt like a terribly bad mother.

The next morning the doctor came by again

“She has been lucky,” he said. “Everything seems to be alright. Keep a close eye on her at home for a few more days, but you can go home.” I felt the tension in my body slowly dissipate. She was okay. Our Annabel was okay. But that guilt, it lingered for weeks, if not months.

MIRANDA