Quite some time ago, my great grandmother on my father’s side fell. It wouldn’t have been that remarkable an occurrence aside from the fact that she was several months pregnant with twins at the time.
One of the twins did not survive the fall. The other did.
My grandfather was born months premature and spent the early months of his life living in the NICU, in a shoebox if you can believe it, with a heating lamp to keep his five pound body warm. His diet consisted of a few drops of formula and a single drop of whiskey at each feeding.