Thankful
This morning was a rough one. Having had Dexter up most of the night fussing, we finally gave in and brought him in to bed with us sometime in the early hours. Attached to my breast, he was much happier and allowed us to get a bit of sleep. So when he began fussing again sometime after sunrise, I stuck a boob in his mouth and hoped it would allow us a little more rest.
In my early morning haze, I reached for my bottle of Dr Pepper (which is a strange thing to drink at night, but I can’t function without it!) and took a swig. As I did, I got a whiff of something familiar, but not pleasant. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. It put me in mind of a hospital for some reason. It was a burning, acrid smell, which I guess I associate with sterilization. Not putting too much thought into it, I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep.
Dex was okay for a little bit, but it wasn’t long before he was writhing around and fussing again. Figuring he’d just lost his suction, I once again brought him to my breast. And once again, I my nose sought to warn me that something was off. Again, in my fug, I attributed it to something Dex might have done in his diaper, though the smell wasn’t quite right…
When he continued to fuss, I finally opened my eyes a bit wider and looked around. As I’d slept in my contacts again, the world was still a bit swimmy, and my addled brain started trying to process why there was such a strange smell in the air. Dex let out a little moan, and I started to stir a bit more. Mark lay next to me, oblivious to the world. Just as I was starting to come around, a horrific noise rent the air.
A high-pitched beeping noise was surrounding us. Mark woke up, and I hazily voiced my confusion. “Is that the baby’s alarm?” It didnt’ make sense, as the baby’s alarm wasn’t on. He was laying right next to me, startled by the loud noises around him.
Mark jumped up and ran down the stairs, and it finally connected. It was the smoke alarm.
Still I’m ashamed to say I didn’t see much cause for alarm. I looked around and couldn’t really see any smoke or feel any heat. I assumed that the battery was about to die and this was a warning. Then, I remembered the smell. In the next few seconds, a millions scenarios went through my mind… I thought of all of the possible ways the house could burn down. I thought the baby’s new radio had overheated, that we’d left the stove on, that my new laptop had exploded…
From Mark, I heard nothing. He’d been downstairs for a few minutes, and I he hadn’t said anything. I quickly called to him to ask if everything was okay. He replied that the house was filled with smoke and he was trying to find the source. I put the baby in the centre of the bed and ran down the stairs. He was right. There was a heavy white smoke suspended in the air around us. I ran back up to get the baby.
Mark figured out that our home media PC had somehow overheated and was on the verge of blowing up (or maybe I just assumed it would). He unplugged it and felt the heat off of it. With that knowledge, we calmed a little, and I figured that it would be okay as the smoke was all downstairs. But when I reached the bedroom, I realised that there was even thicker smoke in there!
I hadn’t been able to see it before, or if I had, I’d assumed it was just my contacts playing tricks on me.
As it was, our little family was forced to vacate the house and sit in the garden for half an hour before deciding to just head out for the day to let the smoke air out.
And while our story doesn’t sound so bad now, let me tell you, the realisation that hit me once the smoke had cleared (pardon the pun) that I could have lost my fiance and my son through smoke inhalation… well it doesn’t bear thinking about. Had it not been for the alarm going off, I wouldn’t have noticed the smoke at all and would have gone back to sleep and chastised Dexter for keeping us up.
So yes, it was a minor drama in the scheme of things, but it definitely put the fear of god into me. And so I pass this message out to you, dear reader: Check your smoke alarm. Make sure it’s in good working order.
You never know when it might save your life and those of your loved ones.
This post originated at A Mother Thing (http://www.amotherthing.com). If you want to leave a comment, please do so here: http://www.amotherthing.com/2011/09/thankful/#comments