Carseat Calamity

& some days the Bear eats you.

It was the absolute worst day of my life as a mother.

Didn’t start that way though. As with many challenges in life, there’s usually a calm before the storm. In this case, Bear and I had a wonderful morning and midday. He had a nice morning nap and we enjoyed a beautiful afternoon walk.

The plan was to go to L.A. in the evening when Greg returned from work. I was anxious because, like many babies, Bear hates being in the car seat for too long.

To be honest I was downright dreading the trip. But it was a very important and sentimental occasion that I didn’t feel comfortable declining. So despite my feelings, I decided we would trek on. Things started getting dicey when it came time for his afternoon nap. He was playful and energetic and fighting the sleep. By the time I got him down, it was time to leave.

I carefully took him out of the wrap I had bounced and wrestled to get him down in. He stayed asleep for maybe a minute. The transfer to the car seat was a failure and he woke up immediately. I buckled up my seat belt and told myself to be positive. He seemed to be doing ok in the back seat.

He was laughing and playing when we hit the 14 fwy. By the time we reached 5 fwy things started to go downhill. He was fussing softly at first. I kept calming myself and telling myself he was ok. Greg was in the back seat singing to him and trying toys but nothing was working. Once we hit some traffic he started full-on wailing. I was barely hanging on at this point and feeling some rage stir up in the pit of my belly. “Are you doing anything??” I snapped condescendingly at Greg. “I’m trying babe. He’s not looking at the toys.”

Once I heard him saying “Mama,” my heart plummeted. I felt completely helpless. I was up front driving, navigating rush hour traffic, and having a complete emotional breakdown. Greg beckoned me to pull over and I snapped again “Then we’re gonna be stuck on the side of the road with a crying baby.” We were 15 minutes from the destination and I didn’t want us to be delayed anymore. At this point, Bear was screaming like he did when they plucked him from my womb on his birthday. I couldn’t take it anymore. That’s when I broke down and joined in on the crying fest. When I started bawling Greg insisted I exit early and take him.

I took the first exit I saw and pulled into a neighborhood street. I grabbed him from the car seat and hugged him tightly as I whispered, “I’m so sorry,” over and over again. His little heart was pounding and he was catching his breath from all the screaming. His onesie was soaked with sweat and tears.

After we walked up the block that had a view of a beautiful garden with a butterfly gate, little balcony home gardens, and we had cooled off in the evening breeze I took him in the parked car and nursed him. When we were both regulated I gave him to Greg and called for an emergency coven meeting. I told my girls how I had fallen apart, snapped, cried, and was in general disarray. They talked me off the ledge and back into the present moment and assured me that all would be well and we would make it to the destination.

I felt strengthened. After another briefly tricky interlude, Greg took over the driving and I hunched over the car seat to nurse Bear the rest of the way. The car seat jamming in my ribs over the myriad of L.A. potholes was more bearable than the sounds of my baby’s screams.

When we reached our destination I felt like a wounded animal. I was raw and tender with the trauma of what it took to get there and I didn’t feel proud of myself at all. It still took Bear a while to get to sleep when we arrived but after he did I could feel myself floating gently back down into my body. I was offered freshly picked strawberries that tasted sweet and delightful while the Dodgers and the Giants played on the television in the background.

Our host had a little sign on top of his front door underneath a mounted Elk head that said, “Laugh when you can. Apologize when you should, and let go of what you can’t change. Kiss slowly, forgive quickly, play hard, take chances, give everything, and have no regrets. Life is too short to be anything but happy!”

I chuckled at the contrast between the uplifting message below the serene face of the elk and my frazzled inner state. It wasn’t that what happened was so bad, but it was the intensity of the emotions in such a short time that threw me. I had never experienced anything like it. The visit was a pleasant one and the drive home was a lot easier as Bear slept the whole way.

When I put him down once we got home I collapsed into Greg’s arms and we both sighed and laughed about the whole debacle we’d been through. As we hugged I apologized for losing it and he told me that he understood that it was a sensitive time for me. “What’s this?” He asked as he felt sharp and hard objects in the back pocket of my romper between my shoulder blades. “Some crystals,” I said. “I felt like the trip was gonna be tough so I put them in there to help me energetically.” We both laughed. “Imagine how bad it would have been if I didn’t have them!” I said defensively. Greg patted my back as we continued to laugh into the night.