Last Wednesday, I experienced the worst moment of my entire life.
It was our "Spring Break," so Max did not go to MDO. It was just me and the two kiddos. I had taken Hadley up to her nursery to put her down for a nap and Max was playing, so I decided to get some things done around the house. I noticed that some things needed to be put in the recycling bin, so I took them down and opened the door that goes out to the garage and placed the items in the bin in the garage. I noticed that Jasper, our dog, was still in the crate in the garage and that the garage door was still open. (I had put Jasper in his crate earlier in the morning when Terminix came.) So, I ran up to the kitchen to get my slippers, leaving the door to the garage cracked a bit. In true multi-tasker fashion, I heard the dryer go off, which is just off the kitchen, so I decided I would put the clothes from the washer into the dryer while I was thinking about it.
As I was walking out of the laundry room, I noticed a green truck that was stopped in front of our house. (I tend to leave the front door open so that Max can watch the cars and dogs pass by through the glass door. We live on a pretty busy street, so there is always lots for him to see!) As I near the front door, the man in the green truck rolls down his window and motions for me to come outside. His truck has some city or county emblem on it, so I figure it is safe to open the door to see what he wants. Besides...he was in his truck, right?
So, I open the door and step out onto the front steps and the man in the truck says:
"Your baby is in the street." I continue to walk down the three or four steps and ask the guy in the green truck what he just said. He repeated: "Your baby is in the street." I am totally confused at this point and I am thinking, Is he talking about Jasper? Surely he isn't referring to him as a baby. Hadley? Is he referring to Hadley? No, can't be. As I near the corner of our house and walk around the corner on our sidewalk, I noticed another truck, going in the opposite direction of the green truck, stopped in the middle of the road. I suddenly realize what baby the man in the green truck was referring to: my sweet baby Max! Another man was carrying Max and met me on the sidewalk in front of my house to hand him over to me. This must be the man from the white truck, I thought. Why does he have my Max? What is going on? My knees buckled and I began shaking frantically. The man from the white truck assured me that Max was okay and that he had wandered down by the street.
Sheer and utter panic set in.
I ran as fast as I could inside our home and sat down on our stairs and sobbed uncontrollably.
At that moment, I realized that Max had slipped through the door that I had left open and walked out of the garage door that I left up and down the steep driveway towards a busy road.
I am ashamed that I--the one person in Max's life who is supposed to be the ultimate protector--let something like that happen to my sweet baby Max.
I am embarrassed that I was too busy worrying about household matters to realize that Max was indeed in the living room and not upstairs like I thought.
But, most of all, I am thankful that God was watching over Max when I was unable.
I am thankful for those two men that rescued my sweet baby from the speeding cars that fly by our house each and every day.
I am thankful that Max walked away from this incident unscathed and that I am walking away from it a better mother.
This has been a HUGE lesson to me that I need to just slow down and take the time to love on these precious babies instead of worrying about insignificant things like the laundry.
It has also taught me that God is in control and that I am just here.
I was super-hesitant to share this, but it has been weighing heavy on my heart. So, I hope that whoever is reading this out there in blogland will not take judgment on me, but will learn from my mistakes.
I am so, so thankful that this story has a
Happy Ending :)
