On (Mom) Life
There’s a story making its rounds around the web about a heartbroken mother whose seven-month-old son died from accidental suffocation after being placed in his crib with a blanket. Jordan DeRosier was the one who discovered her sweet Sloan.
I. Can’t. Even. Imagine.
Moved by her grief, she took to social media to educate others (and no doubt, she’s saving some lives) about safe sleeping practices.
I think about how we have H in a sleep sack at night and how his crib is bare except for the mattress and the green-and-gray-giraffe-patterned fitted sheet.
But I also think about that one time. That one time I went to check in on H when he was about five weeks old.
Note: As a new mom, I checked (often) to make sure H was breathing. I’d stand there to watch his chest rise and fall, and if that was hard to see, I’d put a finger in front of his nose and mouth to feel that warm, moist breath.
It was the middle of the night when I figured I’d check. I’d been the one who put him down earlier in a swaddle sleep sack. As I approached his crib, I saw that his nose and mouth were completely covered by the swaddle wings.
If it had been light out, I’m sure you would’ve seen the color drain out of my face. I remember my heart pounding and my hands scrambling to undo the wings. I remember frantically touching his face and neck for signs of life. And I remember the relief when he moved as I cradled him.
I’m tearing up as I write this. I hadn’t swaddled H tight enough so the wings crept up over his face (unfortunately, I’m not the only one). For the next several weeks, I was hyper-vigilant about the wings and would re-swaddle if it so much as crept up to the base of this neck. I think I drove Dr. H a little crazy because I’d re-swaddle his swaddles as well–sorry!
How close were we to being the ones with the cautionary tale? I shudder to think about that. Hug your babies close, mamas. And make sure their sleep areas are safe.
Marriage and Medicine 