We were busy all morning. From the second our eyes popped open. Tennyson had a well visit Doctors appointment at 8:50 am, Mom, Meghan and I are starting a new exercise routine together with today marked as the first day, and Beckham had art class at 10:00.
Everything went smoothly. A good time had by all. By the time we got home everyone was tired and hungry. I quickly whipped up some lunch and then put the younger two to bed while instructing the older two that I needed some Mommy Time on the computer so to play quietly somewhere else.
About an half hour had gone by when Karaia informed me that Sanders was crying. I explained that I didn't think it was him, because I was listening on the monitor and I didn't hear anything coming through that. She gave me a disbelieving look and dashed upstairs to prove me wrong. I paused for a moment, not hearing anything, let alone anyone crying, then continued to what I had been doing.
Karaia came down stairs letting me know that Tennyson was crying and, "Why is he crying like that? He's freaking out."
With Tennyson being two and nap times not on his all time favorites list of things to do, I really wasn't that concerned. But I wanted him to nap so I headed up stairs to put him back in bed.
When I reached the hallway I stopped a moment to see if I could figure out what he was doing from the outside. I couldn't hear any crying, but I did hear an electric toy. I figured he had gotten a bunch of toys out and was biding his time until I came and got him.
I opened the door prepared to scoop him up and put him back in bed. What I was met with instead still makes my heart stop and drop to my feet.
The dresser I had found at D.I that I had painted red and loved because it was a good solid peace of furniture, heavy and well crafted was tipped over on the ground. Tennyson was nowhere to be seen and he wasn't crying anymore. HE WASN'T CRYING ANYMORE!!!!!
Flipping the light on I ran over to the dresser screaming, "Tennyson! OH NO! TENNYSON!!!!"
Finally a noise. A sign of life. I tried and tried to lift the dresser. It was too heavy. I frantically yelled for Karaia and Beckham so I could send them to a neighbor's house for help. No one could hear me.
I can't get the dresser off. I can't get it up. Oh no! Tennyson! I can't lift it! I can't lift it!!!!
I didn't want to leave him but the only thing that was running through my head was, "If this is too heavy for me to lift, he must be having a really hard time breathing. I have to get help. I have no idea how long he's been under here. I can't get it up."
I started screaming toward the window, "HELP! HELP! PLEASE HELP!" in hopes that a passerby would be prompted to come investigate. I didn't want to leave my baby, but I HAD to get help.
I said a quick prayer and told Tennyson I would be right back.
Mommy was coming back. I have to get help! I couldn't get him out!
Sitting here I barely remember my feet touching the ground as I ran to the neighbors.
Please be home.
I rang the door bell and knock on the door a dozen times.
Tennyson is trapped and by himself. I need help. I couldn't get him out. I can't lift it. I need help!
Please, please be home.
Finally the door open. I exploded. Tears and word coming faster than I could control,
"Lori, I need you! The dresser, I don't know how long he has been under there! I can't lift it. Please come!!!!!"
With that I turned and ran home, praying Lori had been able to interpret my hysterical panic and match my speed. We raced through the hallways and I could hear Lori gasp as she came into the room. Quickly we lifted the dresser, exposing Tennyson.
He was curled up in a ball. His head in the center. I snatched him up. MY BABY! My Tennyson! How long had he been under there? Why hadn't I heard the crash. Drawers and clothes everywhere.
At this point I started hyperventilating. I tried to calm down to look at him, but I couldn't. I had to hold him. Close. He is sweaty and so hot. How long was he under there. Why didn't I hear the crash? Lori finally calmed me down enough helping me examine him. The only visible sign of trauma was a goose egg on his head and a red stripe on his torso.
His eyes don't look right to me.
All he wanted was me, his blanket and to sleep. I had to get him to the doctor.
That dresser. It was so heavy. I don't know how long he was under there. I couldn't lift it up. I couldn't get him out..........
I called the doctor from the car letting her know I was coming. Before I could get to her office she had gone over everything that happened and what he looked like and how he was acting. Thankfully, she was fairly certain he was OK. But watch him for the next two - three hours because if something was wrong it would come on fast.
I turned the car around and called Kevin. I met his answer with fast words, tears, and some more hyperventilation. I had to pull over the car. The relief, horror, guilt, and gratitude came all at once proving to be a force stronger than I could control. I couldn't help myself. I had to let the feelings come. It was awful. I couldn't lift it up. It was so awful!Tennyson!
From what Kevin could glean from my emotional phone call he decided it was best to come home. Love him for that.
Then I called my sister Meghan, who is a nurse. I thought I had gotten all the emotions out talking to Kevin, but as soon as she answered, the wave of emotions hit me again and, once again, I hyperventilated everything that had happened, "The dresser fell on Tennyson. I don't know how long he was under there. I couldn't lift it up. I couldn't lift it up! The doctor said he was fine. Will you come and look at him. I need you!"
She came as fast as she could, spending a good 45 minutes looking him over and observing his behavior coming to the same conclusion as the doctor.
I spent a good chunk of the rest of the day holding Tennyson and asking how he was. Asking if he had been scared. If he had been under there a long time. Mostly, however, I sat and hugged him, stared at him, thanking Heavenly Father for letting him stay with me.
After I was sure, really sure, he was OK and Kevin would keep an eye on him, the fatigue washed over me.
Hearing no noise and having no dreams.
Waking up I found my sweet Tennyson playing and laughing and jumping.
Gratitude, relief, and horror encompass me again. Only this time I can control them a bit and focus on the gratitude. It could have turned out so different and yet it didn't.
Miracles do still happen.