Tuesday, October 25, 2011

These things don't usually get to me too much.

The Lisa Irwin case is getting to me, though.

I don't have a TV, so I haven't been getting the cable news play-by-play on things, which is probably good for my peace of mind.  I heard of the case on Facebook, one of the innumerable links from a friend things, and clicked through for some reason I am still not clear on, and was immediately skeptical of the story as presented...

...and then I saw the baby's birth date.  11/11/10.  Same as Marie.  Damn.

It's not so much a "that could be my baby" frisson.  Because, well, it couldn't--anyone wanting Marie would have to go through me.  (Never thought I'd add "makes kidnapping next to impossible" to my list of reasons to co-sleep, but there ya go.)

But this baby is the exact same age as my baby.  My baby, who is lying here beside me right now, with her hands shoved under my side.  Who wakes up when I sneak out of bed, quite often.  Who, mistress of the cross-crawl, follows me wherever I go in the house.  Who wakes up, rolls out of bed, and goes looking for her sisters (she doesn't understand this school thing yet).  Who sometimes panics when I get up to go to the bathroom, thinking that I'm leaving her.

The best case scenario for baby Lisa right now is that she is absolutely terrified.  Whether she was kidnapped or sold, she is away from her mom and dad and siblings.  Wherever she is, she is crawling around looking for her loved ones, and can't find them.  That would be terrifying for Marie.

Worst case scenario is that her mother invented the kidnapping story out of whole cloth, having either murdered or accidentally killed her.  And that means she won't learn to walk or to talk, she won't cut the rest of her teeth, she won't grow hair, be potty trained...And may well mean that the woman who is supposed to protect her and love her and shepherd her through all those milestones instead chose to hurt her beyond recovery.

Either one of those makes me indescribably sad.

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