Overcome with Fear

We were on a trip to the Salisbury Zoo and Ashton needed to use the restroom at the entrance of the Zoo playground.  After potty business was completed we walked the 50 feet to the car where Jen was waiting with sleeping Tyler and Reagan.

He was 15 feet behind me.

He vanished.

I turned around and began visually scanning the playground behind the restroom and the few cars in front of me. I call his name over, and over, and over again.  Louder, louder, and louder.  Time is quickly racing by and I dash into the playground continuing to call his name.

I can't find him.  I hear him once call for me, but he has been silent for what seems like hours.

I turn around and scan the parking lot behind me and see a water-filled ditch.  I'm totally frantic.  I sprint across to the ditch and start searching from above for Ashton.  I'm calling his name constantly but now feel overcome with emotion.  I'm crying and try to scream his name through my sobs.

Jen joined the search and I realize she is searching the other side of the parking lot.  Out of my peripheral vision, I see a car leave and I am now sure he has been taken.  Please be in the water, so I have a chance to save you from abduction.  He was right behind me.  I can't lose him.  I've had a short time with him.


Just when I thought my life was over, Jen calls out to me, "CHELSEA, HE'S HERE! HE'S HERE!  HE'S FINE!!"  I sprint across to my son, sobbing with a combination of relief and excitement to see his wonderful face.  I embrace him, showering his with kisses and cry even more, now shaking at the thought of losing my precious boy.

Though the entire ordeal lasted only a couple of frightening minutes, I pray it never happens to anyone ever again.

In hindsight, I feel guilty.  I'm fully responsible for him wandering off because I failed to hold his hand, or put him in front of me, when we walked from the restroom to the car.  I cried, which made my mind race, thinking of all the possible horrible conclusions to this saga.  I am the reason he didn't answer.  I instructed him to not enter the playground until we took Reagan and Tyler from the car.  What kid can resist a playground full of colors and endless slides?  He ran in the playground hid somewhere and chose to stay quiet, so he wouldn't get in trouble or leave all the fun stuff.

Am I too hard on him?  Is he fearful of my wrath?

It is nearly impossible to manage a two-year-old at all times, but this incident reminds me that it is easy to get careless.  I have recommitted myself to being diligent, which I hope will prevent anything like this in the future. I'm not naive to think this won't happen again, but hopeful.