As of yesterday it seemed close to impossible for me to feel worse than I already did. (Ooo foreshadowing!) At 36/37 weeks pregnant I’ve been having constant very painful, yet thankfully fake, contractions for days. On top of that I’ve had a fever, a stomach virus, and a toddler who also can’t seem to shake the stomach virus. It’s really a low “how are you feeling” bar but I can always count on the universe to humble me and remind me how good I still have it.
I mean just look at that face.
Last night, around 2 am, I woke up and rolled over to semi-consciously check on B for the billionth time. (Like everyone said, just because he sleeps through the night doesn’t mean I do now.) To my complete and absolute shock, and for the first time ever, he was NOT THERE. Enter immediate stage 100000 panic. That has literally never happened before. He never ever ever ever gets out of the bed by himself, especially in the middle of the night. He will always wake someone up. Plus he sleeps in between G and I so it’d even be hard to orchestrate without accidentally waking one of us.
Anyways, now I know if I ever need G immediately conscious all I have to do is scream, “Garth wake up! Benny isn’t here!” I swear to you the President could surprise G at our house in the morning and it would still take him 20 minutes to get out of bed, but this time it was about 2 seconds and he shot out like a rocket.
We turned on every light in every room and ran around frantically screaming for B. It was clear he was nowhere and my tired brain started racing to thoughts of kidnapping. The alarm was still set, there was no sign of forced entry, and he had been sleeping on top of us. It seemed impossible. It also seemed impossible that he just gotten up to play in the middle of the night in the dark by himself. I knew I had to be missing something.
Relatively calmly (haha) I went back to the bedroom to look in and around the bed more closely. The comforter was on the floor at the foot of the bed, where G had thrown it in a rush to start the search. And there, sticking out from underneath it, was a little pajama footie pad. B was fast asleep on the floor, at the foot of the bed, buried by the comforter. So in our efforts to rescue him we basically almost smothered him.
Amazingly, given the way he started life, he can now sleep through anything.
G scooped him up still asleep, put him back in bed, and we all rested peacefully. Oh wait no, G and I will probably never sleep again after that feeling, but B didn’t even know it happened.
So yeah, physically on a scale of 1-terrible, I’d say I still feel terrible, but I know now there is an infinitely worse way to feel and that is not knowing where your child is or if they are ok. Even if it only lasted for 2 minutes, I know I never ever ever want to feel that again.