Today at Baby Sensory (indeed I try to get out of the house once a week to be entertained by an enthusiastic lady who makes us sing songs and play with instruments and toys with our babies to make us feel like we’re better parents)- the idea is the baby sleeps better after these activities…I have yet to have this proven (more about this in a future blog!). Anyway my catch-up story with my friends this week was about driving up to Yorkshire on my own, with the baby, for the first time (this alone was going to be a massive achievement) and here is what happened…:
We were going up for baby’s Christening so it was pretty important, but this was the first time I had done the 5(ish) hour drive without the hubby (he had to work all week). We stopped at the service station, perfectly timed for baby’s lunch so she didn’t progress from peckish to hangry and then refuse to eat. And the stop went well- I found a (slightly sticky from previous use) high chair and like an independent woman and strong mummy, I efficiently fed the baby and even fed myself (with a danish and cup of tea), whilst baby smiled at anyone who would walk past. Nappy change done, we smuggly went back to the car, texted hubby to say we were setting off and got ready to go. This was where it started to go wrong. Of course we were in a parent and child parking space, (even though there was no extra room between the cars) and just as we got to the car another decides to pull up and park directly next to us. This would have been fine, but then instead of just getting out first, the lady in said car decides that I should (helpfully) put the baby in her car-seat first. (I of course try and get the lady to get out of her car first as I know this would be so much quicker). However after her insistence, I ended up going for it.
I put baby in, fine, taking my time to make sure she was tightly strapped in her seat, and then trying to be efficient, I go and slam the door… On my finger! ‘Fudge!’ ‘For flips’s sake!’, ‘ Oh bother…’ (you get the idea) under my breath and re-closing the door, not on my finger for a second time, I quickly get into my seat. Second text to hubby ‘I just trapped my finger in the car door’… he phones me… I’m light-headed and seeing stars. Luckily I happened to have a cool-bag next to me in the car, full of baby’s frozen meals for the week. So I stuffed my finger in there (not actually in the food I might add) to try and numb the pain and stop the swelling (that’s about the sum of my first aid abilities). Hubby on the phone says “Do you need to go back into the services and find a first aider?” By this point I can barely move and feel like I’m going to faint. The phone cuts out and he rings again.
After blacking out for a second and hubby getting back through to me, I (very sensibly) waited for another 20 mins to recover and eventually I managed to get on the road again and safely drove myself and precious baby cargo up to Yorkshire. Thankfully baby was completely oblivious of any of this happening and good as gold, she just sat there, dummy in mouth, ready for the next leg and a long nap. While this was happening I might add that no-one walking past even noticed me slumped on the steering wheel (which might be a blessing as I was totally fine and could have just been embarrassing). It could have been worse. Life is challenging enough with a baby without having to deal with a full-on injury.
Thankfully we both got Up North safe and sound and I now have a black finger and a nail which will probably come off in the next few weeks… I think this childbirth thing has made me pretty hardcore.
*no mummies we’re seriously hurt in the making of this blog