Chaos On The Staircase: The Fall

*Trigger warning: This story involves a traumatic accident with my baby boy. He was 3 months old at the time. Everything is positive now but this story may be difficult for some to read. Please read with care.

February 2, 2026 time stood still for our family and was the day I fell to my lowest low, literally and mentally. Remember previously when I said I left my second interview feeling on top of the world?

That is how this day started, on top of the world, believing in myself.

As a stay at home mom, with little to no childcare, my solution to attending interviews is to take my children to my husbands office and let him watch them while I complete my interview. Although it is still fairly inconvenient for both of us, I am so grateful to have this solution.

After my interview, we embarked on our 30 minute journey home. On the drive my daughter caught a few minute nap and my son screamed in his carseat. I’m not sure how she naps through it, but she really is a trooper. I also don’t understand his profound hatred of the car.

When we got home, we were having a blissful late afternoon. My son and daughter and I were hanging out in the playroom upstairs. He was trying to roll over for the first time. My daughter was painting. I remember it feeling so wholesome and calm. I didn’t even have the 4 p.m. scaries. If you know, you know.

Little did I know, it was the calm before the storm.

Before I knew it, it was time for my son to have a bottle and a nap. My daughter was content, so I communicated that I was going to go downstairs with brother and give him a bottle and put him down for a nap. “You know where to find me if you need me” I said before I headed downstairs.

*Trigger Warning

I walked with a purpose down the stairs, baby in one arm, laptop in the other. Our house has two sets of stairs, with a landing in the middle. After the first set of stairs, I adjusted and ensured I had a good grasp on my son. On to the second set of stairs. The first step was fine. The second step was fine. The third step…was not fine. In less than a second I was down and my son flew from my arms.

My socks and gravity were immediately my enemy.

My son landed face first on a basket of my daughter toys andf shoes placed on the second step from the bottom of the stairs, four stairs down from where we had fallen. I screamed and gasped and without skipping a beat picked him up and started nurturing him. Two seconds later he started screaming, that blood curdling scream that you only hear if they are hurt. Think like when you cut their fingernail too short, but worse. My daughter hollered down asking if we were ok.

In the most frantic but calmest way possible I responded with the facts, “Brother and I fell!”

Immediately, I rushed to my bedroom and stripped him down to assess any injuries. I did not notice any marks, but the screaming didn’t stop. I called my husband, who was still at work, in hysterics to tell him what happened. He briefly mentioned calling 911, which triggered my mind to connect to the pit in my stomach that told me something was wrong.

Before he could finish speaking, I hung up and dialed those three numbers.

That was something I had never done before, purposefully at least. I remember frantically asking the dispatcher when help would be there in which she directly told me they would be there as soon as possible and to call back if my circumstances changed. In the moment it felt clipped, but I totally understand their perspective and role.

I mustered up all of the calmness I could find in my body and hollered up to my daughter that EMS would be coming by to check out brother because that was the right thing to do after an accident. She agreed so innocently and confidently, “Mom, I think you’re right, they help people if they are hurt and I think it would be a good idea if they check out brother.”

That was only the first of her comforting pep talks she gave me throughout this experience. She prompted me to talk breaths and remain calm. The EMS had given her a sticker to bring comfort to the chaos. She then handed it to me and told me she was so proud of me for how I was handling the situation. She really is emotionally intelligent beyond her years. My sweet girl.

Upon EMS arriving, I scrambled to make arrangements for my daughter so I could ride with my son to the hospital in the ambulance.

All the while, the EMS ensured me that my sons vitals were stable and his condition seemed normal considering the circumstances. They even went so far as to tell me “You should be home by dinner” which was quickly approaching at that point in time. Due to a prior traumatic accident I had experienced with my husband before we had children, I held on to that comment with a grain of salt, even though I wanted to believe so badly they were right.

Shortly after arriving at the first hospital, my son underwent a CT scan. Moments later, I received the information that the fall caused a severe TBI and bleeding to his head and we were going to be transported to Vanderbilt Children’s Hospital. Later we would find out he also had hemorrhaging behind his eyes.

After multiple scans, interacting with more doctors than I can remember, and 8 days in the hospital, my son was discharged with less than reassuring orders to come back and follow up to decide if surgery was needed. The surgery would be to drain the blood from his head, which was nothing to take lightly.

A week later at his follow up appointment, we were told it had not improved enough for clarity. We were presented with an option to operate the next day or wait 4 more weeks and follow up again. The surgeon said he was 50/50 on whether to operate. After much delegation, we decided to give it some more time to absorb on its own. In fact, miracles do happen. As you can imagine how that felt, my husband and I trusted ourselves to make the decision to follow up in 4 weeks. Then, time really felt like it was standing still.

March 17, 2026 the scans showed the blood was absorbing the way we hoped!

We are still following up to ensure he is positively progressing and we still have a long road ahead, but each day that road gets shorter and more managable. He is the happiest and most chill baby. He continues to surpass his milestones and impress us everyday with his strength.

All of this acts as a lesson that accidents can happen in ordinary moments, in ordinary homes, to parents that love their children deeply and would do anything to protect and keep them safe.

And, DON’T WEAR SOCKS ON THE STAIRS!

-Curated Chaos Mom