Old - August 29, 2008- Messages I needed Part 1

Today I got some lessons I needed:

We had to stop by Wal-Mart today, and shortly after arriving B.B. decided she didn't want to ride in the cart so I let her out to walk, telling her, "Okay, but you have to keep up with Sissy and me."

P.D. and I finished in the aisle we were in, and started toward the other end when I noticed B.B. was poking along back where we began. P.D. and I called out "Bye, B.B." and walked a few more steps. (which always prompts B.B. to squawk and start running to catch up.)

I turned back around to see that B.B. has moved further out of our aisle, and is now looking at us from the clothing section. We waved and called again, "Bye, B.B.", turned and took a few more steps. When I turned back again, I couldn't see her. I marched back the direction we had come, frustrated. "Why is she so difficult?" But when I got to the end of the aisle, B.B. was nowhere to be seen.

I turned to my left and started looking down the aisles, still frustrated: no B.B.. I turned back and ran the other direction, calling her name: no B.B.. I started into the clothing section: still no B.B.. I called to the first associate I saw, "Please, have you seen a little girl about this high wearing an orange shirt?" I hear my voice rising... The associate begins searching and recruiting other associates to look...

Then it hits: abject terror.

This is really big place and I can't find my baby.

I run through the clothes, P.D. on my heels... "B.B., oh please B.B., answer Mommy!" A minute more and I hear it over the loudspeaker: "Code Adam, A two year-old girl wearing an orange shirt." My mind is racing "what if someone grabbed her? Oh dear God WHERE IS MY BABY!!!" By this time a dozen people have joined in the search.

I ran over to the grocery section, practically screaming her name. I met one the of police officers who direct traffic outside P.D.'s school each morning. (B.B. and I love to wave at them) She grabs me, realizing it's my baby and tells me she's already searched the bathrooms and we WILL find her. The intercom is in full force now, reapeating the description, ringing in my ears...."Code Adam... Code ADAM... CODE ADAM!"

Together, we ran back to the last place I saw her, tears welling up in my eyes, strangers yelling to us..."What color is her hair? Where did you see her last?" and joining the search...I am trying to be brave, trying to keep a clear head, but I can feel my knees weakening... tears running down my cheeks and I can barely yell her name.

Finally, I hear it: the unmistakable B.B.-the-Rebel Yell, coming from way over beyond the dressing rooms, and moving closer. A lady I never met is running toward me, clutching my screaming, writhing two-year old. "NO! YET ME GO! I YANT MOMMY!"

I grabbed her and finally let my knees give way. I was sitting on the floor, crying harder now from relief. I hear myself say over and over "Oh thank you, thank you God, oh my precious baby", holding B.B. close to me, kissing her and stroking her hair. P.D. brushes away her own tears and sits beside us, hugging us both.

A small crowd has gathered, smiling down at us, all relieved that the lost child is now found.

It was the longest 15-20 minutes of my life

Continued...