Terror

Last night I experienced a fright that I haven't had with Anthony before. Around 1:00, Mark flew out of bed and disappeared. I thought maybe he had heard the cat knock something over, so I didn't think about it. Then I hear Anthony crying "MAMA! MAMA!" Well, that put me into action. I got to his room and he was crying for me. Mark was trying to calm him down, but he was crying and coughing his "barking seal" cough. I felt his head for a fever, but he was fine. It took a while to calm him (and, um, myself) down enough to lay back down in bed. I lay there rubbing his back and waiting for his breathing to calm down. He would seem to drift off to sleep, and then he would roll over and his breathing would become erratic again. It was about 20 minutes before his breathing was normal and I knew he was back to sleep.

I wonder if he had a nightmare. I wonder if he woke up in the dark, was frightened and needed me. Why didn't I hear him? How in the world did Mr. I'll-sleep-through-World-War-III hear him? I'll certainly be leaving his door open a lot wider from now on.

Is this how my mother felt when I had a bad dream and called out for her in the night? She and my dad were always right there when I needed them. It was such a comforting feeling. I hope that's how Anthony felt last night when we were curled up in bed together.

I love that little boy so much that sometimes I will just get teary thinking about it. I love how his little hand seems to fit so perfectly in mine. There are a million things I love about him...but last night the biggest thing that got me was when I stopped rubbing his back because I thought he was asleep, he mumbled, "More, please, mommy".