The scariest moment of my life occurred when Lucia was 2 1/2 years old and I was 7 months pregnant with Clara. Our family had just returned home from dinner with my in-laws. I was working in the kitchen and the other children were playing when I realized I hadn't seen Lucia in awhile. Knowing that when toddlers are quiet, they are usually making a mess, I went to look for her. When I didn't find Lucia on my first pass through the house, I started to panic, but decided to look again, more carefully this time. I wondered if she had gone out the front door, but the deadbolt was locked when I came to it, so I thought that she couldn't have gone that way. She wasn't on the main floor. She wasn't in the basement. She wasn't in the backyard. Now I was really scared. I thought someone had taken my baby. I was about to call 911 when I flew out the front door in a panic to check the front yard. As I scanned the sidewalks to the east and west of our house, I spotted Lucia, crossing a busy street just west of our home. Two cars were stopped, waiting for her to cross the street. I shouted her name, and ran to get her, but my legs were wobbly and I fell on the driveway right on my big pregnant belly. I got up right away and retrieved my toddler, who was
laughing when I scooped her up. I was so happy that I found her, alive and well, that I didn't even think of spanking her for going into the street. I took her back home, and once the adrenaline wore off, I discovered that I had injured my back and scraped up my foot when I fell. I felt the baby kicking, so I thought that she was probably okay.
Lucia had escaped into the front yard because Matt had left the gate to the backyard unlocked when he took our dog out for a walk that evening. Because our yard is fenced in, I let the children go in and out freely. I hadn't noticed Lucia going into the backyard that evening. The next day, Matt installed a chain lock on the front door, out of the reach of little people, and my father-in-law installed a high lock on the backyard sliding door.
Sometime later, I was listening to a talk on EWTN and the speaker said that a woman must search for holiness like she "searches for a lost child." I knew
exactly what she meant. When I was searching for my lost Lucia, there was nothing else on my mind but finding her.
Early this morning, I had a bad dream. I dreamt that I couldn't find one of my children. When I woke up, I still felt scared. I went to check on all of them and counted five little heads, peacefully dreaming. And all the doors are locked.