Angels Watching Over Us

We had just had the conversation, "We really need to get a copy of the Suburban key". Alas, that is now at the top of the weekend To Do list!

It was that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that I encountered -- you know the one, like you have just done something incredibly dumb and would do anything to turn back time if only for 3 seconds. I had performed my routine: open driver's side door, open passenger side door, secure diaper bag at base of car seat, lock doors with automatic lock, shut driver's side door, and, yikes, my arm hit the passenger side door which closed with a thunk. That thunk changed my day.

The diaper bag, which was now securely inside the car, held my only set of car keys. Worse than that, Zoe was still fastened in her car seat. Arg! How could I have let this happen? I called our helpful emergency personnel at "911". The nice lady assured me help was on the way. 4 minutes passed. 5 minutes. 8. 10. I don't watch alot of tv, but somewhere on some police show I was almost positive that I learned that the response time for a baby left in a hot car should be way below 10 minutes.
I called back, "Uh, I ordered help? It's been 10 minutes....."
"Maam, I have an I-33 en route".
Well, of course.
"Uh, does that mean another minute or two".
"Maam, it means they are on their way."

15 minutes. 20. Dialed again. 9-11. I was put on hold with an automated answering system that said all their operators were busy, but please hold and do not hang up. OK. My options were limited, other than asking Mr. Henry's Cooking Class to use their meat cleavers to break the window. 45 seconds.

"Hello, Kansas City Emergency"
"Yeah, I called twice about my baby girl being locked inside my car"
"What address did you give?"
"106th and Wornall - rear parking lot"
"Well, Maam, there's nothing they can do to help you anyway. They can't carry tools like that."
What the????
"So what am I supposed to do?"
"I would call a tow truck"
"I am in the middle of a parking lot with my baby locked in a hot car, I can't call a tow truck!"
"Well, I would call a friend who can get you the number of a tow truck"
"That's why I called YOU 25 minutes ago!!! Thank you EMERGENCY!"

I was about to blow my stack until the amazing policewoman pulled up and took over. She told me that she was so long in coming because 911 did not tell her it was a Code 1 (whatever that means). She called in the big guns -- fire trucks and paramedics.

They came with sirens and the whole sha-bang. The crazy thing was, the firemen couldn't unlock my doors either. They could only break the window. Arg! again. I could've done that with alot less drama! As the firemen were gently attempting to shatter the rear window, a random tow truck speeds into the parking lot, the guy hops out, runs to the truck and begins to work feverishly work at unlocking the door. I lost it -- now I was crying. I said, "Who called you?" He told me that no one called him, but sometimes he listens to the police radio. Whoa.

It was seconds before I pulled a hot, sweaty, crying Zoe out of her carseat and the paramedics surrounded her to make sure she wasn't overheated. She cuddled one of the guys attending to her and got a Teddy Bear out of the deal. The wild thing was, by the time we got done in the ambulance, the tow truck guy was gone. I asked the other moms in the parking lot if he asked to be paid and they said, no, he just collected his tools and left.

Amazing. No shattered window and a man with tools just in time. I think God might have sent a tow truck angel. Either way, I am very thankful!

And Zoe is just fine -- although she hasn't let me out of her sight today! (Which has been fine with me!)