Completely My Fault

She fell.
Off the bed.
It was my fault.
She's fine.

But oh. my. word. I was so traumatized by the incident. Here was the sitaution:
We went to Bible study last night and there was a baby sitter and 5 kids. I said, "I'll come back about 7:30 and feed her and change her". So when I came back, Macie was crying (because it was 7:45 and she was hungary!) and I took her from the sitter. I laid her on the bed and started to get her bottle ready. I looked at the bottle to pour in the 8 ounzes of water, and in that 3 second look she was in space between the cushy bed and the cushy carpet.
The baby sitter saw it too, but she was across the room and I was only 2 feet away.
It was like a baby belly-flop.

She was scared more than hurt, and after 30 seconds or so of crying, she was just fine and showing off her cuteness again for everyone, but I felt like a grade A failure. And then, to add insult to injury, I had to sit through another 45 minutes of Bible study and admit to everyone (through jokes of course) that I just let my baby fall 3 feet off the bed.
The good news was (this is sick I really think it's good news), everyone else had stories of when the same thing happened to their kids (or worse, STAIRS!). While I felt bad that everyone goes through this, I really did feel awful that Macie had just fallen.

But I have a secret.
An ugly secret.
She looked a little funny as she was falling. And I kind of wanted to giggle once I saw she was okay. I mean, picture a super-cute baby in cupcake pajamas, spread-eagle, heading for the floor.
Now, before you go calling CPS, remember that I did not giggle, and infact, the thought that I did want to giggle made me cry on the way home. Because I must be a terrible mother.

I've heard it described like a new car: I think my baby just got the first dent. I felt sick.
I checked on her 3 times last night (I almost woke her up once) and all is well. As DH said, babies are built pretty tough.
But Yeah, I had some pride about how "my baby had never fallen off the bed (or couch, etc.)". So now I'm sitting here evaulating what else I have too much pride about. Will my baby poop in the bathtub tonight? Will she stop being 'awesome'?

Has anything like this happened to you!?