I had a motherly scared-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach experience today. Before Mass, I dropped Ava off in the church daycare. This was her 3rd visit. I got my pager, she cried, I waited out in the hall till her cries subsided, then I was on my way to the sanctuary to celebrate Mass without a squirmy toddler. I made it till about the Eucharist before I decided to go get her. When I went downstairs to the nursery room where I dropped her off, I eagerly looked inside the room from behind the baby gate, but I did not see her amongst the kids. (Let me now say that I failed to see and hand-written sign taped to the door frame that said something like "3-5 years.") My heart started to beat FAST and I clumsily tried to get the unfamiliar gate open, while I was saying to the two women in the room, "Where's my daughter?" They looked at me kind of strange, but didn't say anything. I repeated my question as I still tried to get into the room. Then finally someone said something about a room next door. (The two other times I had been there the "room next door" was not a part of the childcare equation - I had no idea it was in existence.) I rushed over 5 feet to my right and tried the knob, which was locked. I looked through the small window and saw an older woman holding Ava (THANK GOD) and tapped on the window...forcefully tapped. A young woman opened the door and I said, "Can I have my daughter?" I was trying to sound calm, but in fact I was on the precipice of being terrified. The woman who was holding Ava said, "Ok mija! I'll be gone next Sunday, but I will see you soon." She was very sweet and gentle with her, which I found soothing for myself in that moment.

In the car on the way to the Waffle House, I drafted an imaginary letter to the church that said something like "establish better communication between childcare providers and parents," "don't switch the rooms the kids are in as it leads to confusion and unnecessary stress," and "I would like to volunteer as a caregiver" (so I can fix all your problems and stay with my daughter instead of have to leave her again). Alas, all of this washed away as Ava and I shared a waffle.

Yes, I will take her back to our church daycare again, but not without having a conversation with the women who run the operation. (It doesn't help that the other night I woke up in a fright after having a nightmare about my child being snatched out of a daycare....)