I’m sure every parent has a story about being scared out of their mind for their child’s safety. Though my daughter is only one, I now have a story that places me in that category.
I was rushing home from the grocery store to unpack groceries. I was meeting my husband for dinner and was already running slightly behind schedule. I could not carry all 5 bags in while holding my nearly 20lb one year old, so I grabbed 3 along with my daughter and hauled up the stairs. I set the bags of groceries down, set A down on the floor, closed the gate, and ran down the stairs to grab the remaining groceries.
As I whisked them out of the car and headed back to the door, I was met with an unexpected shock: the door was locked. Or, I should say, I thought it was locked.
Instant panic overcame me. I anxiously jostled the door one more time, and accepting that it was locked, I ran to my front door in hopes that I had been absent-minded and left that unlocked. Of course, it was locked as well. So, my 1 year old daughter appeared to be locked inside the house all by herself.
Our house is a California split, so that means we have several sets of stairs in the house. We have one baby gate up. That gate is at the top of the biggest staircase in our house (10 stairs) that leads up to our kitchen, where A was playing at. However, down the hall on that level are 2 bedrooms (including hers), a bathroom with the door opened (and most likely, the toilet lid was not down, hence, a drowning hazard for a baby left alone), and there is another set of 6 stairs that she has access to. Needless to say, I was in a panic!
I sprinted out of my garage next door to where some of the neighbor kids were playing. I can only imagine what they must think of me after my escapade. I could barely catch my breath when I asked if their mom or dad was home. “No, why?” they inquired, unaware of the crisis next door. I mumbled something quickly, trying to capture the gravity of the situation, hoping that one of them might throw on a cape to save the day. Alas, they looked at me with a puzzled look, probably thinking I was a bit on the crazy side.
I raced across the street to a neighbor’s house whose garage was open. I’m fumbling in my purse trying to find my cell phone to call my husband who was still at work. Ringing a door bell at a house that says “No Solicitors” was probably not the best idea. I rang it about 5 times, frantically searched my purse, and found my cell phone. I dialed my husband and started running back across the street to the house where my daughter was still all alone.
Again, I started to try and explain what was happening to my husband. I was out of breath from panic and from running all over our cul-de-sac. When I finally reached our house and headed back to the door, I tried once more to open it. And by the grace of God, the door opened.
I was so relieved that I could get to my baby and that she was safe. We did not have a key hidden anywhere outside, so I had already begun planning which window I was going to have to break to get inside to her. It was the most frightening situation I have been through with her yet. My mind was racing with all terrible things that could happen to her while locked in a house alone. Praise be to GOD that she was safe, the door was not locked, and I was able to get to her in just a few minutes!
When was a time that you feared for the safety of your child, and you felt helpless in the moment to do anything about it?