Poor baby

My poor baby has had a rough couple of days, and I earned "Worst Mother of the Day" on Friday.
I'm ashamed to admit this, but here goes (and if CPS comes knocking on my door, I'll know why).
On Friday morning, I was getting Matthew ready for school, and (almost) went about our normal routine. I put him on the changing pad on his dresser. I leaned over to dig some clothes out of the dresser but didn't see anything I wanted to put him in. I turned my back for just a second, which I never do, and WHAM! He rolled right off of it.
Bad, huh? Gets worse.
I had left the very bottom drawer open and there aren't many clothes in it (I had just purged all of the too-small clothing into storage), so it was nearly empty. So, there was my baby, sprawled on the drawer. His back hit the side wall of the drawer, and I thought for sure he broke his back or his neck. I scooped him up and gently laid him on the ground in case he really was injured. He cried and was moving around fine, so I picked him up and he stopped crying. He whimpered for maybe half a minute and he was fine. He was moving his arms and legs and head, and it was as if it never happened. That's when I lost it. I could not BELIEVE I let that happen. That was the scariest moment in my short experience as a mother, and I can assure you it will NEVER happen again after that experience.
Pale in comparison, he went on to daycare that day (after much debate with myself over whether I should just stay home and watch him like a hawk), and promptly head-butted the floor and earned nice bruise on his forehead that looks like a purple kiss mark and then did it again yesterday. He has two bruises, one on each side of his forehead, kinda like horns.
There's more.
He now has thrush in his mouth, the doctor thinks from binkys or toys, so we've sanitized our entire house and so has the daycare.
Poor kid. I felt SO bad =(