It Happened.

In all my years of parenting, it's never happened. 

I'm saying this like I've been parenting for 16 years or something. 

But seriously. In all my years of parenting, it's never happened. 

Until last Saturday. 

I lost one of my kids. 

And it was one of the most horrifying, gut wrenching, make-you-want-to-vomit feelings I have ever had. It was the most horrible six minutes of my entire life. 

We were at the ball fields for Kolt's football games. He had one at 10:00 and one at 11:30. We were already into the second game, so we were all comfy in our spot. Know what I mean? Our stuff was all unloaded. We had blankets out and snacks galore and we had all started chit-chatting. I had moved down the fence line to get a better view of the game, when Travis walked up behind me and asked where Kruz was. My immediate answer, "He's with PawPaw." A minute goes by and here comes Travis again. 

No Kruz. 

I am so not one to freak out. I am calm. I am cool. I am rational. He's probably at the playground with Kollin, my first thought. So I walk to the other side of the field to the playground to find ... no Kruz. 

Then I panicked. Then I became irrational. 

All of the most horrible thoughts plummeted my mind. Who grabbed him? Was he in the parking lot? Was he hurt? Then my heart flooded with prayer - God, wherever he is - please, please keep Your hands upon him. Please. Please. Please. 

By the time I got back to our group, I felt like I was going to vomit. I kept looking around and I was not finding that little blonde haired baby in his bright blue sweatshirt. Some of us went to the bathrooms, we all just split. 

What seemed like five hours was only about five minutes. My eyes kept surveying the park over and over and over. I kept thinking, this is what it feels like. This feeling of hopelessness. 

I saw Kruz come around the corner of one of the buildings with Travis and what I felt was indescribable. I was relieved, I was thankful, I was mad with him and I wanted to never let him go all at the same time. I scooped him up and did not put him down the rest of the game. 

And my poor PawPaw. I honestly think he felt just as sick as I did. You know, Kruz is his Big Boy, his Buddy, his Little Helper. 

After I thanked the Lord over and over and over again, I thought about all the parents who don't get to feel that relief, the ones who are missing their children, the ones whose imaginations are left to run wild on where their children are and it literally makes me sick to my stomach. Even now, just thinking about it all, I feel nauseous. 

If you've ever gone through this, you know the feeling I'm talking about. I am grateful our situation ended happily and my heart and prayers go out to those who don't get to experience that feeling of relief ...

People, keep an eye on your babies. Always.