In a quest to walk the dog and give Seth some new scenery, I drove to the paved trails by Grant’s Farm. We had a great time. Seth enjoyed hanging back in the stroller, slurping water out of a cool bottle, eating his much-adored “bishy cwakers” (Goldfish crackers), and at times, getting out of the stroller to walk Abbey-dog. Abbey revelled in stretching her legs, sniffing new smells and peeing all over whatever she could. Meanwhile, I fantasized about all of the chocolate I could eat since I was burning extra calories.

Toward the end of the walk (I think we did almost four miles), I noticed Abbey’s gums were turning a darker shade of pink. I was concerned she was overheating. Once I turned off the trail and onto the sidewalk to walk back to the car, I hurried my pace. I didn’t think this was a big deal because the sidewalk looked smooth. I just wanted to get Abbey back to the car and into the air conditioning. Well…. the sidewalk wasn’t so smooth. At one point, a front wheel hit something, snagged around, and abruptly halted. The rest of the stroller (and I) kept going. The stroller fell forward and Seth, being strapped in, had no place to go but “with the flow.”

I turned the stroller upright and tried to free my screaming, bloody child. I couldn’t get him out. Two men stopped their truck in the middle of the road, and helped me pry him out. I grabbed him and held him tight. He was scraped, scared and hysterical. He held onto me as if I was his lifeline. At this point, a woman in one of the homes we’d passed came up to us and offered paper towels. They all kept waiting for me to answer them and I think they were getting nervous that I hadn’t said something other than “I’m so sorry sweetie. I’m so sorry.” I was just trying to stay composed. What I really wanted to do was start screaming and howling too.

I finally said, “I think he’s ok. Our car is pretty close, thank you. I’ve got some stuff in the car to help. Thank you. No, I don’t think we need any help, thank you. Thank you for your help. Thank you.” So with some reluctance, they let me go. I was holding Seth, the dog’s leash and pushing the stroller at the same time. Then a man who had been biking the path walked past me and offered to push the stroller. At first I said, “That’s ok. Thank you.” But he offered twice more and I relented. So he pushed it back to the car. I thanked him a million times while Seth screamed and cried, “Hurt! Hurt! AHHHHHH!”

At this point, the dog could have fallen over dead and I don’t think I would have noticed. Fortunately, she didn’t. I had to put Seth down so that I could open the doors and put the stroller in the trunk. He could bear weight so I knew neither leg was broken. In one hand, he still held onto his beloved “White Twuck.” He had a deathgrip on five “bishy cwakers” in the other. I took this to mean that neither arms or wrists were broken.

Using a paper towel and the rest of the water, I patted parts of his bloodied face. His nose wasn’t bleeding. So I took that to mean he hadn’t broken his nose. And he was still awake, so I figured there was no concussion. Whew!

After getting him into the car and bypassing my turn, we ended up going past a Steak and Shake. I asked, “Seth, would you like a chocolate milkshake?” And he howled, “Choky-shhhhaaaakkkkkee,” a few times. I figured this was a good sign. I got him his shake.

Once we got home, I propped him up on the couch with a bunch of pillows, put in the Telletubbies DVD, and reminded him that he was clutching his milkshake. There was more crying and screaming. I continually repeated my mantra, “I’m so sorry sweetie. I’m SO SORRY, Seth.” When he had calmed down a bit, I cleaned his scrapes and called Marc.

By mid-movie, Seth would sip his shake, say a few words, then wail for a few minutes and finally stop to sip his shake again. By 3/4 of the movie, he would sip his shake, talk about what was going on, eat a cracker and then let loose one slow wail. By the time the credits were rolling, he had stopped crying and was trying to shove the remaining cracker up his nose while singing about Teletubbies. At that point, I finally felt like I could start breathing again.

Shortly after the movie finished, I saw Marc on our deck talking on his cell. He came inside and I said, “Hey babe. He’s ok actually. Just a little banged up. You didn’t have to leave work early.”

Marc replied, “I didn’t come home early for him. I came home early for YOU.”

Then I hugged that man so hard he probably couldn’t breathe. Then I cried and cried. To see your child in hurt is such a terrible feeling. To know it is because of something you’ve done is even worse.

And Marc said that it didn’t mean I’m a bad mother. I was trying to do something good for Seth and Abbey and it was just an accident. Sometimes these things happen. And yes, I know it was an accident. But I still feel really bad. I’m sure that in a few days, he’ll have forgotten what happened. His scrapes and bruises will heal. But thirty years from now, I’ll still be able to show you the EXACT spot that damn stroller overturned.

And I’ll always remember how my honey was there for me when I needed him to be. And that he knew exactly what to say when I needed him to say it.

And to the people who showed concern and helped us today - THANK YOU! Whereever you are.