Tuesday, August 5, 2008


I've had to call 911 three times in my life for actual emergencies.

The first was when I was a 19, and about a year after the Oklahoma City Bombing and everyone in OK was still on edge over that and some moron called in a bomb threat to McDonalds (where, I worked at the time) so we evacuated all the customers and I ran next door to Pizza Hut and called 911. The bomb squad, fire department, police and the whole 9 yards came out and in the end, it was just some stupid kid (I assume) playing a prank. But it sure was scary for a minute.

The second was New Years Day, this year. Zack woke up in the night with a croupy cough, and we did all the normal at home treatment for that. Several times, I almost took him to the hospital, but in the end decided to wait until morning. Early that morning I was sitting on the couch with him, exhausted from the night, watching cartoons with the boys. He was in my arms and all of a sudden he got really quiet. I had been watching his breathing and it slowed down. Then his little eyes rolled back in his head and he stopped breathing. I ran and woke Kevin and told him I thought Zack wasn't breathing, and he gave him mouth to mouth. Meanwhile, I dialed 911. While on the phone with the operator, Zack woke up and started breathing. It was my most horrifying moment as a parent.

Then there was the day I lost the baby. Also known as yesterday. I was loading the dishwasher and everyone was in the kitchen with me, except Ben. I did a brief glance and couldn't see him anywhere. So I looked in his usual hiding spots; the bathroom, my room, upstairs. Didn't find him anywhere. My heart began beating a little faster and I called on the boys to help me find him. What scared me most is usually when I call his name, he'll giggle and start running toward my voice, but this time there was no cute baby voice answering me. I looked in the garage because sometimes he'll get out there if I forget to lock the door, but he wasn't out there. I checked the backyard and the frontyard. All of our safety mechanisms were in tact, but I couldn't think where else he could be. I called 911 because I could literally picture my little guy wandering in the road, and couldn't bear to think what might happen. I talked to the operator while I was still looking. She connected me to our Sherriff's Office just as I found Ben. In the playroom. Standing in the toybox. I was too relieved to be embarrassed right away. I hugged him, and kissed him and talked to the lady on the phone who told me that an officer would have to come by. Then I was embarrassed at the prospect of having to face someone at my door to potentially judge my motherhood. The officer was nice enough. Commented that I had my hands full when he saw all my boys. Told me "good luck," as he walked away with a grin on his face. I can't even imagine what he was thinking. But it's over, my baby is safe, and that's all that matters.


Anonymous said...

Oh gosh, how scary! I'm glad you found him before all the troops came out!! Embarassing, but at least he was safe!

bellebearberry said...

That fear. I know how real it is. I'm glad you called. When in doubt - call.

Jill said...

Wow. I'm glad he's safe. I'm so scared Katie will open the front door and leave without me noticing. It would only take her about 30 seconds to get to the street. Very scary.

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