A frightening fall

Sonny presented us with our first heart-stopping moment yesterday. Mum had been getting ready to bathe him, so she left him on our spare bed-cum-changing station while she popped into the bathroom to fetch a pail of warm water. She had our plastic protective barrier up, which runs about two-thirds the length of the bed, and took the precaution of facing the little fella away from the edge of the bed.

Once she got the water running, Mum stuck her neck round to see how Sonny was doing. To her horror, he had spun, skedaddled past the barrier and was peeking down towards the floor. Before she could grab him, the little fella toppled headfirst down and slammed temple-forward to our parquet flooring. After a second of stunned silence, the tears began to flow.

The next hour or so was taken up with Mum trying to comfort the little fella (which proved quite easy to do), then worriedly ringing up a doctor friend for advice. The medico was reassuring: Babies' heads are very hard, she said. Just watch for any vomiting, drowsiness or loss of co-ordination - head for the hospital if these signs manifest themselves. Otherwise, your son should be all right.

Almost 18 hours later, all seems well. Sonny is as frenetically active as ever and is presently trying to climb up Mum (we may have a mountaineer in the making here). We can't even find the bruise corresponding to the knock to his head and he never did seem especially in need of a hug - though the doctor had warned that he might be extra-needy. In fact, it is pretty much business as usual, though we remain wary. Still, if we are lucky, the entire episode will prove a useful dry run for future emergencies, medical or otherwise. There's no getting away from surprises in the parenting business, or so well-placed sources insist, so we might as well get used to being dealt a few.