My baby disappeared for 15 minutes today.
Maya disappeared and I lost my mind. Losing the mind is quite a humbling experience. But 15 minutes is a long time when you can't breathe. It'll make ya crazy.
I was engrossed in Tyson's soccer game. He scored three goals! He is the best on the team... Seriously. I'm not just being a mom here.
My eyes flickered every few minutes to the blanket laid out in the grass where my daughters and their friend relaxed in the shade.
I saw Maya with them. One minute she was there and the next she was gone.
She was nowhere.
The open field afforded no conceivable hiding places.
"Where is Maya?" I asked Serena.
"I dunno. She was here a second ago," said Serena.
I didn't panic right away. First I made sure there was plenty of just cause, I carefully weighed the possibilities and then I FREAKED.
I never understood before having children what it was like to truly Love someone more than I Loved myself. I never understood that having a baby meant I would suddenly live and breath for her smile. I never understood that the very thought of losing that baby would cripple me completely.
I ran across the park and frantically started asking strangers if they had seen a little girl in a pink top and jeans. They looked at me with pity as they shook their heads.
Tears streamed down my face as I continued asking. Begging for someone to tell me they had found my child.
I was hysterical.
I was angry. I can't say to whom I was directing my anger. I don't know. But I was furious.
I was terrified. My vivid imagination pictured every possible horrific scenerio. Every one. In gory detail.
I was helpless.
I kept asking and crying, "Have you seen my little girl? She's five years old. Have you seen her?"
Finally, after the longest 15 minutes of my life she turned up. As I said, 15 minutes is a long time without oxygen.
She had found some of her friends from church and hid with them behind a soccer banner in the far corner of the park.
When I saw her I didn't know whether I wanted to paddle her behind til it blistered (I never touch my children in anger) or hold her tight and not let go.
I held her tight and sobbed.
Then I looked at her, "Do you understand how scared I was? Do you understand that if I lost you I would never be happy again? Do you know bad people hurt little girls and take them away forever and kill them? Do you know that?! Baby, I can't breath without you!"
She stared at me. She has never seen me get that emotional. She was stunned.
"Don't you EVER do that to me again?!" I just kept crying.
Maslow's Hierarchy of needs is wrong. Do you see how it has not included Maya at the base? I may petition to have it changed.
My babies belong at the base along with oxygen and sunlight and the very beating of my heart. Today I saw my life flash before my eyes. My life without Maya. It was no life at all. I was dead inside. Everything came to a screeching halt.
A kind older man approached me and said, "It's ok. Every parent has scares like this. It's ok."
I thanked him.
After he left I suddenly became very angry.
IT'S NOT OK!
It's not ok that I live in a world where I have to teach my five year old her life is in danger! That I have to tell her someone may want to hurt and kill her! It's not ok monsters masquerade as fellow citizens! IT'S NOT OK AT ALL! The evil that runs rampant in this world is BULLSHIT!
I kept holding Maya tight.
"Too tight, mama! You're hugging too tight," she said.
"I don't care. This is your punishment. I will hold you until I am good and ready to let go," I said.
"Can I still go to Kylynn's birthday party?" she asked.
"Yes. But I'm not letting you out of my sight today."
So I crashed a birthday party I was not invited to and I made myself at home. I told them my sad tale and ate their hamburgers and cake. It was pretty tasty. Humble pie always is...