Yesterday morning, Clayton was up and dressed planning to take the car to get our new inspection sticker, AC was sleeping, and Rory and I were taking our time getting up. I heard the garage door open and the car start, soon after, AC padded into my room rubbing her eyes asking where Daddy was. Finding out he was leaving, she ran into the living room yelling that she was going to watch him leave out the window. I continued to nurse Rory and finish my coffee.
I wasn't but a few minutes later that I heard Clayton come back in, but didn't hear him talking to AC. I laid the baby in the bed and went out into the living room asking Clayton where AC was...he didn't know, he hadn't seen her when he came in. Attempting to remain calm, we started calling her name, flinging open doors and looking under beds. No answer. Afraid she had gone outside to find Daddy, we both took off outside: backyard, front yard, and down the street both ways screaming until hoarse. I can only imagine what the people dropping their kids off at the babysitter down the street were thinking. I was still in pajamas and house slippers all looking like Medusa with hair sticking up everywhere screaming and yelling for Jesus to "help me" up and down the street and mumbling that she "doesn't have shoes on".
I feel I must explain a little something here. Due to a reaction AC had at 2 months old when I was on penicillin, we had always assumed she was allergic just to be on the safe side even though her reaction didn't look like allergy. The day before yesterday, her pediatrician had put her on a penicillin antibiotic for strep in order to test the theory and, thus far, she had shown no signs of an allergy. All that I could think was that she had gone into anaphylactic shock somewhere and I couldn't find her.
Fearing someone had come by and abducted her, Clayton called 9-1-1. I ran back into the house to check just once more, to make sure the baby was ok, and to call my mom to tell her to start praying. Standing there looking at Rory, I heard a cough...and it hadn't come from the baby. There she was, in the living room, hiding behind the couch laughing hysterically. I was filled with a combination of relief and white. hot. rage. I hadn't realized I had been holding my breath from the time I heard the cough until I let it out in a manner to rival the terror inspired by a pissed off silverback. AC went from laughter to hysterical sobs as I roared God-knows-what, dragged her out from behind the couch by whichever appendage that was within reach, and tossed her on the couch. She, of course, did not want to hug me, but I was clinging to her straining and flailing body alternately admonishing and kissing her.
Clayton came inside to affirm that we had found her so we wouldn't have a fleet of police out looking for her. She ran to Daddy, probably to flee the psychotic nut-job that invaded her Mommy's body and I crumpled on the couch in racking sobs of relief.
Now, I know that some may titter while reading this because they, themselves, have experienced this with their children, but I have to tell you, I don't know if I will EVER think back on this and laugh. From AC waking up to my breakdown, no more than 10 minutes passed, however, it was the longest 10 minutes of my life.
Until then,
AC 'n' Rory's Mom
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