When I put the kids to bed, they usually talk and roll around for a while or kick at the crib toys. They play around in the crib before they settle down and go to sleep. We can hear whoopin' and hollerin' and little feet scampering on the mattress.
And every once in a while they get their hands on the video monitor.
It's a small camera pod that is plugged into the wall behind their crib, and I have it sitting on the back of the crib railing. I always meant to have it mounted up higher so I could see more area and so it would be out of their reach. They usually leave it alone, but every so often it catches their attention. They take it down and include it in their bedtime games. When they have settled down, I go in and quietly reposition or reconnect it.
This time, they had dropped it behind the crib. Great. I thought I would just use the sound feature for tonight instead of poking around, getting the camera out and setting it back up. I didn't want to disturb them. And I didn't want to mess with it.
I never heard a peep on my monitor for the first hour, but I checked on them one last time before heading to bed.
I couldn't sleep very well. I kept thinking about them in there, and how the camera might be unplugged. What if I don't hear them?
Something kept waking me in the night, a worry, a whisper: "Wake up. Something's wrong." My eyes popped wide open again and again. So I kept going in and turning on that hall light. I looked in over the crib from the doorway. The light is bright enough to let me see them and dim enough not to wake them. They're fine. Sleeping like babies.
I think I woke three or four times with that strange "something isn't right" feeling. I would go look, be satisfied, and go back to bed. No, it's ok. I saw them. They're fine.
Ethan cried out suddenly. And then it was quiet. They're fine. I just checked....
When the morning came, I went in and stood over the crib.
What I saw struck my heart with terror.
The monitor cord was still plugged into the wall, pulled tightly...and was wrapped around and around and around Emma's body.
I touched her. She's warm. Thank God!
"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," I said as I flipped her body over and over and over, unraveling the cord that was tightly wound around her torso. She's going to be black and blue, I thought (but she wasn't). She sleepily turned and turned. Ethan watched me curiously. When I finally had her untangled, she stood immediately, smiled so big and said, "Hi."
My heart was racing and I scooped her up. "Hi, baby." I squeezed her and swayed with her in my arms for several minutes. I got Ethan out and then took Emma into the bedroom to explain to her father that our daughter was almost killed in her sleep last night.
Because of me.
Thoughts tortured me all day long:
Why didn't I turn on the lights?
I should have gone in there and made SURE.
I knew something was wrong.
And I dismissed it.
Why couldn't I see?
Emma almost died.
Because of me.
