This morning, around 5:45am, I experienced every mother’s worst fear.
I was afraid for my child’s life.
No joke, no exaggeration, no lie. I was petrified like I have never been before.
I was in a dead sleep, as any other normal person would be at 5:45am. I heard a scream that snapped my head up so fast my neck hurt. I’ve never heard my child scream like that. My blood ran cold, and all I could thing was that someone was stabbing my baby in her bed. I staggered out of bed and grabbed one of my crutches, ready to beat the life out of whomever I encountered. The Scientist was half a step ahead of me as our daughter flew out of her room, wide eyed, but conspicuously not covered in blood.
The Professor had a nightmare. About spiders. No idea what the details were, but some massive ass spider woke her up howling like a banshee.
Is it possible to be grateful, exasperated, and amused all at the same time?
I took me almost an hour to get back to sleep.