Facing Fears

I really would like to write about happy and uplifting things. I follow a blog called 71toes.blogspot.com that is all about cherishing motherhood and enjoying the little things in the lives of children. The mom-blogger seems to be a very positive woman who, in spite of her challenges, keeps a bright and sunny perspective on just about everything. I would love to be that way. But all I seem to do is complain and moan and whine about all that is going awry in my life.

So in keeping with my tradition, I will tell you I have nailed down what my very worst fear is in my whole existence.

Do you know what fear you have that makes your heart pump and the adrenaline surge? Have you ever been brought to your knees weeping and crying like a child, tears streaming, mumbling incoherently? I, like many, have a "fear" of the typical things like spiders, the weak-in-the-knees fear of heights, airplane take-offs, and getting cancer. This fear trumps those by leaps and bounds.

Nothing, I mean NOTHING compares to thinking you may never see your child again. Your own flesh and blood. I took Eva with me to Kohl's this morning to check out the sale they were having on Sketchers Shape Ups. We then walked all around the store. I didn't think about using a cart with a baby seat because I wasn't planning on getting much. It was just an opportuninty for us to walk and stretch our legs and not freeze our toushies outside. We stopped to look at girls' socks. She was playing in the clothing racks, trying on big fuzzy slippers left on the floor by someone else, and showing me colorful things she'd find. When it was time to move on to the clearance racks in the boys clothes, I turned around to pick her up and go but she wasn't where I had seen her just seconds before. I crouched down on the floor to look under the racks but couldn't see her legs. I went to the main aisle looking up and down, crossed to the infants clothing and got down again to look. A shopper with her 2 kids saw me and heard me calling Eva's name and asked if everything was okay. I told her I couldn't find my baby and described her. She and her kids started helping me look. They went to the toys to look while I kept searching and calling her name like a crazy woman through the rest of the side where we had been. When I asked an employee moments later to help me look is when I really started to lose my composure. I heard her make a call over the PA system and then it seemed like people started to come out of the clothing racks to help. The mom who first helped me told another woman to stay with me while others went around the store. I was crying, kneeling on the floor, praying and nearly hyperventilating in a funk thinking about all the terrible people in the world doing terrible things to my child. I tried to get up to help, but felt like I was one of those stupid people on tv who get slapped then yelled at to get a grip. Can you picture it?

As I finally managed to stand I saw the wonderful woman who first came to my rescue holding my baby. As she got closer to me I noticed Eva was crying, too. The woman told me she found her lying on the floor in the women's dressing room, crying. I hugged Eva so close as she sobbed and I sobbed. I am glad I had regained enough wherewithal to thank that angel and even I gave her a hug. Even as we left the store my head was still spinning with the remnants of panic and what-ifs.

This is my greatest fear. To lose a child. For some reason it was even worse than taking her to the ER in an ambulance. I knew she was okay then and would continue to improve. She never left my sight. I have a new respect for parents who have a child go missing. Even if mine was only missing for five minutes or less. It felt like two weeks. God bless the families whose children haven't been seen in months or years. And God bless their children.