Most mom's have been through this at one point or another, that sick feeling in the pit of their stomach, the uncontrollable panic rising up the back of their neck, she's gone, and you have no idea where.
Today, my family took a day trip down to the Puyallup Fair. After about 10 minutes, I already had a blog planned about the way the fair's milk you for every last cent they can possible get out of you. They managed to get us for $40 in entrance fees and busing in from the parking lot, $30 in ride tickets (no bracelets on weekends), $25 in food and soda and $50 in souvenirs before we were ready to pick up our scones and get the hell out of doge.
Sister and I were taking the pink one over to the exits to head to wait for Steve while he returned the $13 wagon we rented to shlep our stuff around. I was on the phone discussing where we will go and who will meet who and where while we navigated the crowds and made our way to the picnic tables to rest for the first time in several hours. I looked to the left and saw a flash of pink head, knowing that she was behind me, I continued on my way to the tables and sat down.
When I turned around to direct her to our spot, she was gone.
like that, she was gone.
This is one of those things you always worry about, always plan for, or at least, plan to plan for, but until it happens, everything is theoretical and abstract.
My eyes scanned the throngs of people, searching for that little pink head, calling to her, expecting to see her climb out from under a rack of clothes in the booth next to us at any second.
I could not believe how slowly the seconds passed at that point. I went over it and over it in my head, she was there, I turned and looked down, and looked back, and she was gone. Just gone.
Sobbing, I turned in circles, afraid to leave the spot, afraid to stay there and not keep looking.
In the midst of my panic, several strangers stopped me, asking to describe her, taking out their phones, calling the police, alerting the gate security, thanks to a couple that put themselves on the look out for her, she was found within about 20 minutes. They walked with her to the last place she saw us, and there was Steve, holding two large bags of scones and frantically calling her name.
The one positive thing I can say about all of this is that it has re-affirmed some of my lost faith in humanity. At least 15 people, men and women and teenagers all came to my aid, made it possible for my to do what I do best and stand in one spot and panic, looking for her, and calling her name again and again while they did the actual leg work. One woman stood with me while my sister went to re-trace out steps, and another man called 911 for me while still others went in every direction looking for her. The kindness of those people is something I will never forget.
Something I realized today is that we never actually made a plan with Lily about what to do if we ever got separated. We've done the "don't let anyone touch you where your bathing suit covers" talk, the "Its okay to say Hi to strangers but not talk to strangers" talk, the "yes you have to eat your vegetables" talk, etc. But we haven't had the "what to do if you lose mommy" talk not yet.
Apparently, we need a code word, I didn't even THINK about that! So somebody walks up to you and is like "oh! youre that lost little girl, come with me!" If you don't have a code word, who knows who's taking off with her! How could I have NOT THOUGHT OF THAT!
I am completely negligent.
After we found her, and I was able to let her go and stop crying, we started to talk about what happened, and what should have happened.
Apparently, she just got swept up in the crowd, and when she couldn't see me, she tried to go back to the last place she had seen me (she is so freaking smart) but she didn't really know how to get back there so she stood in one spot and started to cry, a couple that was helping me found her and walked her to Steve.
We told her that she did the right thing in making her way back to where she last saw us, and that if this ever happened again, to look for a police man, fireman, or a family to help her find us.
We also decided that we are getting her an ID bracelet, and if I get my way, a retractable leash.
I kid, but seriously, I get it now. We had that kid piled into a wagon the entire day, or holding our hands each time she decided to get out. The ONE time we let her out and aren't holding her hand, we lose her, what could have prevented this, other than paying closer attention of course, a leash.
So, all in all, it was a terrible experience that reminded us how important it is to make these kinds of conversations priorities in our house.
Have these conversations people, and invest in a leash!
5 comments:
Great and scary post. We do have a password which we've used for last minute change in school pick-ups. But, we've never discussed the what to do if you get lost scenario. All the other conversations have been had. At least I think so... until the mishap happens and you realize you hadn't counted on that one disastrous thing that actually happened. I have the monkey backpack/leashes for my boys. Having TWO with special needs and so young is TERRIFYING. They've disappeared into crowds in two different directions several times with me and my daughter or husband at their heels.... fortunately. If you find a good ID bracelet, let me know. I think I'll invest in 4 -- 3 for my kids and one for my elderly Dad, LOL. I lose him way more often than I do my kids.
I'm glad it worked out well. I this is THEE scenario that makes up every parent's nightmare. Unless you live in the bible belt then it's the walking in on my son wearing pumps and pantyhose scenario. What I have learned from this scenario; helping panicked mothers. I think now-a-days we take a hard line of "mind your own business." The people that helped you obviously didn't follow that logic and I think that's good.
Oh, poodle. What a horrible experience! I'm glad that it turned out okay, that she was found and your faith in human kind was reaffirmed, but most importantly, that the conversation has now takn plac and lssons learned. I think this is one of those things that you intend to plan for, you intend to talk about it, but somehow it just doesn't happen, until something like this happens and you're forced to.
I never would have thought of a code word, what a good idea! (How did I not know that?)
On a side note, it seems that having a child with pink hair is a great idea, because it makes her so much easier to spot. So the lesson is, have the talk, get ID, code word, leash, and dyed hair.
Hug the pink one for me. And I'm so glad you blogged about this- I have been frantically trying to call since I got your text yesterday.
Ugh, losing your children is the worst feeling. My son didn't ever wander (mama's boy), but he did hide all over the place. It was still pretty scary.
OK, so this post brings me back to when my son, E took off......IN THE BAHAMAS!!!!!!!......(yes, that is shouting as I am still getting a hold of the post traumatic stress almost 9 years later). It was about 12 minutes but it felt like 12 hours of pure he!!. All that I kept imagining was that guy, John Walsh's voice saying "for every minute your child is missing.........." Yeah, thoughts of a cute little blonde toddler sold on the Black Market or even other worst thoughts that I cannot even talk about to this day. Then God thought it would be "funny" to bless us with a "hiding" child a few years later......neat.
anyway......enough about me and my issues......that 20 minutes must have been the longest in your life.....I totally know what you went through and my heart breaks because I know it will a long time, if ever that you will ever be able to go to crowded places without having to sedate yourself first.
Great idea about the code word.....gah! I never even thought of that either.
So sorry that this happened.....praising God for keeping her safe!
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