My baby woke up at 3:00 screaming. I went into his bed. That bed is torture – we went for the extra firm when we switched Andrew from a crib to a big boy bed because that is the recommendation (it’s like the crib mattress) and we went full size because of the sleep issues (not often but enough). He wanted to get up at 3:30 – I said “no way only hookers are up at 3:30” (j/k). So he finally went back to sleep at 4:30 and I crawled back to my beautiful soft bed and my snoring bear husband.
At 4:40, Andrew screamed again for me. I woke up the bear (had beers with his friends — and beers and friends makes the bear growl louder), “please just go get him, take him to the bathroom and bring him here – I can’t lay down on that slab for another minute my back is killing me”. So the bear, jumps up – turns on all the lights – and says “Andrew get up, get up.” I scream, “For the love of God, do this quietly so he knows it is still the middle of the night and not reveille.” Like Jim spent any time in the military – Major Payne.
Andrew comes up to cuddle with me. He tells me he had a bad nightmare, a mean man cut him in half and I came to heaven to find him. I comforted him – I told him I would never let anyone hurt him and if he ever went to heaven – I would come and find him and to not be scared.
I remember reading The Lovely Bones – it broke my heart…now I can’t watch the previews for the movie – I’m sure it is a wonderful movie – maddening and heart wrenching – but I won’t watch it. I cannot watch any shows, movies or read any books that have anything to do with a child being hurt or dying — there are enough news stories that can wreck me – why should “entertainment” do that to me as well. I become totally without the ability to function. I have always been like that – remember decades ago when Jessica fell down the well…I couldn’t go to work without the radio on – I had to know the moment that girl was safe. I became obsessed with the Caylee Anthony case and the Madeleine McCann disappearance.
Everytime I turn the shower on and the cold water comes out for a second, I think of Nixzmary Brown – remember that sweet little girl? Beaten and abused and held under the cold freezing water in the bathtub. For a long time I cried when the water hit me, now I just think of her and pray.
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