Just in case you haven't heard the crazy story...here goes. Two weeks ago (tomorrow), it was a rainy Tuesday morning. I thought it was a perfect day to clean out the kids' closests. Rebecca was in school, so the other three were upstairs with me playing while I worked. We were all in Henry's room. (Let me first explain that Henry's doorknob had been turned around several months ago because he kept locking himself in--on purpose. He has a traditional key lock on it, and we didn't have a key, so it became a real pain when he would storm up to his room and lock the door.) The boys were playing in Henry's room, and Miss Vivian starting playing with the door. Well, wouldn't you know, she locked me and the boys in the room. I tried for the longest trying to explain to her how to unlock it or at least to get her to keep playing with it so that she might "accidently" unlock it the same way she locked it. I had no phone in there with me and there was no room to pass one under the door. I searched that room for anything that could possibly unlock the door. I tried Darth Vader's tiny light saber (didn't fit), the metal spring in a clothes pin (not long enough), and a nail (didn't fit). There were only plastic hangers in his room too. Next, I tried to knock the door down, pry off the lock, or to take off the hinges. I got one bolt out of one of the hinges but couldn't get the other one.
Next, I yelled out the window for neighbors. No answer. By this time, I was getting a little panicked because Vivian was no longer out in the hallway and she wouldn't answer me. What else was there to do but to go out the window? Part of our deck in the back is covered, and the roof comes in under Henry's back window, so that seemed like the only option. I took everything soft that I could find: pillows, a sleeping bag, blankets, sheets, and threw them off onto the deck below. I was at the edge of the roof (probably about 9 feet off of a wood deck), and decided that I would go off facing out (because of my enlarging tummy). First, I said a prayer that the baby would not be harmed, and then I tested the gutter with all my strength. I started to inch my way off. Just before my "jump," my entire weight found itself on the aluminum gutter. It buckled under the weight, so I fell instead of jumped. I landed entirely on my right foot, and instantly I knew I had broken it. The pain was intense, and it bruised and swelled almost immediately. Luckily, the back door was unlocked, and I crawled into the house. I first called Billy and then I crawled upstairs to let the boys out and to close the window.
At the ER, the Xray showed that I broke the distal end of my right fibula (ankle) and my fifth metatarsal (on the outside of my foot). Being 24 weeks pregnant at the time with whopping extra 30 pounds on board didn't help anything! My OB actually admitted me for a few hours for monitoring. The baby is doing fine, thankfully! I'm in a walking cast for a total of three weeks, and then I'll get one of those removable boots for another three weeks. Oh, I know it could have been so much worse, and I am so thankful for that, but if life wasn't hard enough being pregnant and with four small children!