|This picture has nothing to do with this story. Other than that A) It was taken the same day, and |
B) You can see Lucas's legs, and this story is about one of them.
So I tried again. And he screamed again. At this point, I started to cry, because he was really, really stuck. Dan was working a night shift, so naturally, I called him in a giant panic and asked what the heck I should do. (I'm hideously awful at emergencies.) He suggested calling a friend of ours who lives nearby, and - if that didn't work - to call 911. So I called our friend Caleb, whose wife turned out to be away from home, so he was home with his kids and couldn't leave, but he told me not to worry, he'd find someone who could come help. So I got off the phone and propped Lucas up in bed to see if changing his position would help, and then tried again, and he started sobbing so hard that... he threw up. Repeatedly. In my hands, on himself, in his bed. Then my phone rang, and I managed to answer it while literally holding a handful of my son's vomit. It was Caleb, who told me that another friend, Cory was on his way over.
Since Lucas was majorly freaking out, I was doing my best to keep us both calm by singing to him and praying with him that we would get his leg out. (Sweet side story: every time I would say amen after a prayer, Lucas would say through tears, "More pray?") Staying calm is not really my thing, but I've got to give myself credit for neither hyperventilating nor screaming. Yay Bethany!
When Cory showed up, he tried to pull Lucas's leg out, which resulted in more screaming. After several attempts by both of us, Cory pulled as hard as he could on the bars, while I pulled on Lucas's leg one more time, and... we finally got him free! And then of course I lost it while hugging Lucas. I held him and we both cried for a few minutes while Cory took the gross bed linens to the laundry room (Good friends help free your child from his crib. Great friends then stick around to clean up your child's puke.) When I put Lucas down, he ran into the living room, spotted my waffle, said, "My leg stuck! Yummy waffle?" and then ate my snack. So on the bright side, I was officially much more traumatized by the incident than my son was. (He hasn't brought it up since then. I, on the other hand, can't stop talking about it.)
So... that was my adventure for the week. This motherhood thing is definitely not boring. Anyone else have a "my kid got stuck" story to share? I need something to read while I eat a waffle.