I lost Ben at IKEA yesterday. It was the longest, scariest few minutes of my life. All of the ‘should haves’ and ‘could haves’ keep playing over and over in my mind. I’m lucky and thankful my sweet boy is asleep in his crib down the hall as I write this.
Boris forgot his lunch at home yesterday so I decided to drop it off and head to IKEA. Ben played with the pretend kitchen in the kid’s area for a while; we ate lunch and picked up a potty and some mini pots and pans. Before making the trek home, I decided to use the washroom. Other than a custodian, the small washroom was empty. So when Ben squirmed out of my arms and crawled under the door I wasn’t too concerned, I was almost done. He’s escaped my grasp before; it’s hard to keep him on my lap. He’s so strong. I heard the door open as I was zipping up my blue jeans; I assumed the custodian had left, alone.
Ben was out of my sight for 20, maybe 30 seconds at the most. I called his name, no Ben. I looked behind the other three stalls, no Ben. I started to panic. Where could he be? I left the washroom, looking one way then the other, no Ben. My heart was pounding. My mind was racing. I knew the longer I hesitated, the further the distance between him and I would become. How could he have disappeared so quickly? I ran back into the washroom thinking I must not have seen him in one of the stalls. I looked again, no Ben. I ran back out and yelled his name. People started to stare. I kept calling his name and looking.
Just then, I saw him. He was between the two sliding doors, a few feet away from outside, the street. I grabbed him and held him (a little too) tight. He started to cry. He didn’t know he was lost, he was exploring his world. He was on an adventure, like always.
I’m upset with myself for letting him off my lap and out of my sight. I’m upset with the custodian who either let him out or didn’t notice the little boy following her as she opened the door. Yesterday could have ended very differently. Someone could have taken him. He could have run out onto the street and been hit by a car.
Once Ben was buckled safely into his car seat, I watched him in my rear view mirror, the rain pouring down, and I cried. I rarely cry. I can count on one hand the number of times I‘ve cried since he was born. How could I have almost lost the most important thing in my life? He was there and then he wasn’t. Just like that...
