“Hon.” I heard whispered through the dark, groggily waking me from my much-needed sleep.
“Hon” …. I heard again but louder this time accompanied by a light elbow to my side. “The baby is crying,” he said.
I jerked up in bed, threw my legs over the edge and stumbled out into the dark room. I narrowly escaped stubbing my toe on the elliptical sitting in the corner. Steadying myself with the handle, I willed myself forward as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.
I shuffled into the dining room and crept down the hallway as quickly as possible. I walked swiftly but quietly so as to not wake the other children. The wooden floors creaked as I stepped, but I knew where to move to avoid the louder pops in the floorboards. The hall was pitch black with no windows to light my path, but luckily, I was a pro at walking these halls late at night. I did this in a zombie-like state night after night. It was routine.
I opened Ethan’s door and could see a faint outline of him kicking his legs in the glow of the nightlight.
“Hush now, Bubs. Mama’s here. Sssshhhh, it’s ok…. it’s ok.”
Ethan cried louder as I fumbled for his pacifier. I moved to put it in his mouth, but he jerked and kicked it out of my hand. I fumbled around the crib searching for it with my fingers while quietly humming to him.
“Alright, it’s ok.” I said as I held the paci to his mouth. “Let me change your diaper and Mama will feed you, ok?”.
As I reached for a diaper, I heard a strange thump come from across the room. I turned to check if the cat had snuck in again, but I didn’t see him anywhere.
One time our tabby cat had unintentionally gotten locked in Ethan’s closet. He meowed and ripped up the carpet at the closet door until eventually waking the baby which in turn woke us. But it didn’t appear as if he was anywhere in the room, so I went back to the task at hand.
I had a wipe out ready to throw over his little boy parts to catch any unexpected pee while switching out diapers. Oh yes, I’m a pro, I thought. No way am I getting peed on tonight.
“Alright, little man let’s go feed you.” I said, as I zipped up his little onesie and plopped the diaper into the bin. “Oops, Mommy forgot your favorite blanket.” I turned around and reached back into the crib unexpectedly feeling something cold and slimy. I yanked my hand back, peering into the crib with squinting eyes, but I couldn’t see any wet spots, thinking maybe he had peed out onto the mattress. I rubbed my hand slowly across the sheet but didn’t feel a thing.
I shrugged it off as nothing. It was probably just a tiny spot of drool somewhere. I patted Ethan’s bum and walked quietly out into the living room for our nightly feeding. I laid down on the couch, propping myself up with pillows as comfortably as possible knowing I was going to be stuck there for the next 30 minutes or so.
I steeled myself, knowing that I had to make the switch quickly. The last thing I wanted was to deal with another crying fit. I readied myself with one hand on the paci and the other hand positioned on my boob.
Nursing isn’t always a glorious and beautiful thing, you know. Sure, there is a different bond to an extent, but it is damn exhausting! I’m extremely tired all the time. It’s been three long months of feeding him every hour to two hours, taking him to lactation consultants, doctors’ appointments for tongue ties, fighting jaundice and weight gain. Sometimes I just wish my husband could feed him. Although I know this was my choice. My husband had wanted to bottle feed him like the last two, but I just had to insist on nursing, didn’t I!
My first born was allergic to regular formula. I was 22 and I hadn’t really considered nursing. I hadn’t exactly planned that pregnancy out either. Sure, he was the best thing to ever happen to me, but I wasn’t exactly prepared.
My second child also had an allergy to formula, and I tried nursing, but it didn’t work so well. My milk dried up and we had to put him on a very expensive hypoallergenic formula which cost us a fortune. It was heartbreaking seeing him in pain and I blamed myself for not trying harder at nursing. But with this one, I was going to do it right. I was determined to make nursing happen!
So here I am, readying myself at 2 a.m. to thrust my poor tired sore boob into a tiny human’s mouth. Quicker than I could even think of the word “Go!”, I yanked out the paci and shoved my boob in. I took a deep breath and held it. A few seconds passed by and there wasn’t a peep aside from some light slurping noises. I sighed in relief and laid my head back on the pillow to try and relax as much as possible.
I lay there fighting to keep my eyes open, but I found myself drifting off, regardless of my internal protests. I know, most people are thinking, how can you sleep with a baby on your boob, but hey us breastfeeding mama’s gotta get some sleep too. I never could get into the right position in my bed, so that’s why I started nursing on the couch. It has the perfect amount of support for my back with all the pillows.
Nevertheless, I dozed off for a while, not having dreams exactly, but rather it was these strange waves of emotions that would waft over me. There was a darkness that felt like it was going to swallow me up. I didn’t exactly see anything in my “dream”, just a darkness that made me feel dread and fear. At one point the darkness seemed to thicken even further which sent a jolt of electricity through my body spurring me to run. As I turned away from the invading darkness to run, I bolted awake.
My eyes popped open, and I tried to focus them in the dark. I could feel my heart pounding and perspiration around my temples. My left arm was numb and tingling from the weight of the baby. My arm was dead asleep, and I began to feel those annoying pin pricks of pain you get when a body part regains sensation. I looked down stiffly at my little one. His beautiful little face was fast asleep against my breast.
My neck and shoulder felt like I had fallen down a hill and been run over twice. I looked up at the clock to check the time. I could barely make it out in the dark from across the room, but then I remembered I’d brought my cell phone with me. I picked it up with my right hand and tried to flick it on without directing the light onto the baby’s face.
The clock read 2:42 a.m. Apparently, I’d dozed off for longer than I had thought. I must’ve fallen asleep hard which is quite unusual for me because I tend to be a very light sleeper, especially with the baby lying next to me. Well, at least subconsciously I knew he was still there with me because I hadn’t moved a muscle which was why my body hurt so badly.
I eased up slowly to a half-seated position. Glancing around the couch using the light from the cellphone to locate the paci. I panicked for a second when I couldn’t find it, until I recalled placing it in between my boobs for safe keeping. I didn’t want to lose it in the cracks of the couch. Tricks of the trade folks!
I pulled the paci out and placed it gently against his lips to see if he would take it. Luckily, he did, and I was able to move him over slightly in order to readjust my top. As I picked up my little man, I heard a weird thump come from across the room. We have an open floor plan in our house, so I could see the dining room and kitchen from where I was laying in the sunken living room.
I paused listening intently, waiting for another sound, thinking I could identify where it was coming from. A thump sounded off again, but it seemed quieter this time. I slowly stood from the couch with my baby in hand, gently tiptoeing towards the dining room. As I placed my foot upon the first step, I heard a familiar buzz and then clunk as the ice machine began dumping ice into its container.
I shook my head as if I was silly for thinking it could be anything other than the fridge. Normal noises go on all around us during the day, but you don’t really pay attention to them because of all the life awake around you. At night though, the normal sounds seem unfamiliar to the ear unless you really focus on them. Which I should have been a pro at since I’m always up at night.
I sighed and grabbed little man’s blanket and started off as softly as possible down the hall. The floorboards creaked as normal, even though I did my best not to step too hard. Regardless, my big 10 ½ size feet made them sound off anyways. I’m not a small woman after all, 5’9 and big feet. I had always admired tiny women, such cute little packages. But that was definitely not me.
I reached the end of the hall and turned Ethan’s doorknob, which also seemed ridiculously loud at night and stepped into the faint glow of the nightlight. Something caught the corner of my eye, and I turned my head to look but saw nothing there.
Hmm, maybe the cat was in the room.
I set Ethan down ever so gently as to not wake him. I did not want to suffer those repercussions again. Gave him a quick, soft kiss on his little head, then crouched down to peer underneath the crib to make sure the cat wasn’t there. I saw nothing, so I tiptoed to the closet and over near the toy box, but no cat. There was definitely nothing in the room. Maybe the cat had darted past me when I opened the door. I shrugged it off and quietly exited the room.
I made my way to the bathroom. After having three kids, if I’m up at night I have to pee. I used the boy’s bathroom down the hall because I didn’t want to wake my husband knowing he has to wake for work in just a few more hours.
As I stepped into the dark bathroom, I felt something wet under my foot. I flipped on the light and saw a puddle of God knows what. I assumed it was little boy’s pee, which didn’t make me too happy. I cursed silently and washed my foot under the tub faucet. Then grabbed some Clorox wipes and wiped up the puddle.
I threw the wipe into the garbage can, pulled down my shorts and squatted over the toilet. Hovering so I was barely touching it, because again, it’s a BOY’S bathroom. Pee on the floor meant pee on the seat and I was way too tired to clean everything up at nearly 3 in the morning.
I grabbed some toilet paper, wiped and pulled my shorts back up. I quickly washed my hands in startlingly cold water and shut off the light.
As I stepped outside the bathroom, I heard something fall in the shower. I spun around and flipped the light back on. I opened the curtain and peered into the shower. I saw a bottle of body wash lying in the middle of the tub wobbling very slightly back and forth. I must’ve jarred it when washing my foot earlier. I sat it upright, closed the curtain and shut off the light.
I shuffled my way back to the living room, plopped down on the couch feeling exhausted. I grabbed the blanket from off the top cushion, threw it over my body, and attempted to get a bit more rest before my husband’s alarm went off and woke us both.
As soon as I shut my eyes, I had this eerie feeling that something was watching me. I pulled the blanket up closer to my face, peered over the edge and looked around the room. Seeing nothing, I shrugged it off and began to literally count sheep. I do this sometimes when trying to slow my mind back down, shutting down my thoughts focusing only on the sheep. I often have trouble sleeping. I’ve always had an irrational fear of the dark and have suffered with nightmares since I was a child.
I remember when I was around 8 years old, lying in bed one night I was jarred awake by…well I’m not really sure what I was awoken by. I don’t remember a specific sound waking me, but I do vividly remember what I saw.
Upon waking, I turned over in my bed to get more comfortable. I was now facing the direction of my closet, and what I saw chilled me to my core.
Standing just six feet away, a massive hairy creature hunched over inside my closet. It was protruding out because he was too large to fit all the way inside and he was just standing there staring at me with glowing red eyes.
It appeared to be some type of ghoulish troll-like thing. It’s difficult to describe. It was so tall and extremely bulky and thick with skin dark, so very dark it almost blended into the shadows of the closet. It had sharp fingernails (if you can call them that) and hair growing down its neck and back. Its skin looked leathery but black as ink and it glistened in the moonlight like it was wet.
My eyes couldn’t quite make out all of its facial features, but it had a broad thick head with large sinister glowing red eyes and more of a snout than a nose. I remember being panicked and feeling instantly frozen in fear. My breathing became labored. I tried to adjust my eyes to the night’s darkness, praying it would reveal an empty closet. I told myself that my imagination was running wild making the shapes of my clothes and toys into this creature. But no matter how hard I squinted and tried to make sense of the creature I was seeing, the figure remained never changing.
Whatever it was, it just stood there staring back at me for what felt like hours. I opened and closed my eyes over and over again, but the creature remained. I would flick my eyes from the closet to the poster hanging beside the foot of my bed focusing on the adorable baby bunnies in the field of yellow daisies. I’d look at the creature then back at my poster and tell myself I was just dreaming. I did this over and over again until I finally fell back to sleep.
Suddenly I felt my body shake and I gasped aloud with wide eyes. My older sister stood above me with her hands on my shoulder. She looked at me funny asking if I was okay. Apparently, I had been whimpering in my sleep and she heard me from her bedroom. Our rooms were connected by a door in between. I shrugged it off as a bad dream and never told anyone about the creature I had seen in my closet.
From then on, I began to have all sorts of nightmares and my eyes always played tricks on me in the dark. In fact, the only time in my life I haven’t been afraid of the dark has been when I’ve had little babies to care for. I’ve had to push that fear aside, ignore it and go about the night feeding and changing my kids in the near dark, so as to not wake everyone else in the house. This was baby number three and I rarely, if ever, felt afraid of the dark anymore.
But, for some stupid reason tonight my brain was nagging me with an underlying fear of being watched. I did my best to suppress those thoughts and continued counting sheep with my eyes tightly shut. As I reached number 68, I heard a pop and creak from down the hall. It sounded like the quiet footsteps of someone creeping slowly on the wooden floorboards.
Assuming it was one of my older boys, I cracked my eyes open and whispered into the dark. “Jordan? Tyler? Did I wake you?” I paused, holding my breath. But I heard nothing in reply and the creaking of the floorboards stopped.
After a few minutes of hearing nothing I felt myself starting to relax again. I stopped counting sheep and quieted my mind. I tried to think of nothing. I just stared into the darkness under my eyelids seeing a dancing display of rainbow lights which I can only imagine has to do with the cones and rods firing off inside my eyes. Focusing on the light show helped me drift off to sleep.
I have no idea how long I had been sleeping when I heard a baby toy from behind my head start playing music. My heart began racing as I threw my eyes open. I could see faint rainbow lights flashing in the dark, lighting up the walls. Then I heard kids’ voices singing a lullaby, Jesus Loves Me. My stomach churned with acid making a nauseous feeling rise up in my gut. I reached for my phone to see what time it was and to illuminate the room a bit more, but I was frozen in place. I couldn’t move a single muscle. My body was pinned down against the couch like a magnet to a fridge and my throat felt constricted.
I felt panic welling up inside of me. I wanted to scream for my husband to help me, but I couldn’t make any words come out. I closed my eyes and reopened them multiple times trying to wake myself up from this dream.
I heard a movement behind my head near the toy box. Another song began playing, but I couldn’t make out what it was. I tried to crane my neck to see what was there, but I couldn’t move a single muscle.
I looked out into the night trying to readjust my eyes when I saw them. Three gnarled black figures at the top of the stairs leading into our sunken living room. They were only about 9 feet away from me. They were dark as night, yet their skin glinted as if slimy in the light of the moon. They were hairy from their necks to their backs.
Goosebumps ran down the length of my body as I broke out in a damp sweat. I felt chilled to the bone and yet simultaneously hot. The horror I felt is beyond description. I swore that I was wrenching my back and legs to the point of convulsion, but in actuality I wasn’t moving an inch. My eyes became wide and filled with tears.
I looked back towards the stairs and realized they had descended another step. There were only a few more steps until they’d be in the room with me. I was paralyzed and more than terrified. The creatures were hunched and gnarled like old tree limbs; they were unnatural looking. One was taller than the others and I felt pure evil radiating from it. It looked at me with a snarl on its face and a large snout where there should have been a nose, and it had those same glowing red eyes. My stomach dropped as the recognition set in.
This was the same monster from my closet all those years ago. If I hadn’t gone to the bathroom right before lying down on the couch, I guarantee I would’ve been pissing myself right then and there. I cried out to God for help, as the vile looking creatures made their way closer towards me. I was screaming out into the night, but no sound slipped past my lips.
At this point, the creatures had completely descended the stairs and were standing at the foot of the couch leaning over me. I felt utterly helpless and completely alone. I wanted to cry out, but I knew there was no use.
The taller of the three, the one from my childhood “nightmare” reached out to me in broken movements. Sharp wet black claws inching towards my feet while I lay in that frozen state, absolutely powerless. I felt a drip of something wet oozing off of its hand falling onto my ankle. A feeling of dread overtook me.
Pure terror filled my mind when all of a sudden, the baby toy behind me went off again. I could see lights flash across the walls, and I felt a sudden presence behind me. At first, I tensed, fearing this unseen presence lurking just out of view. I couldn’t turn my head, but I knew something was there.
Suddenly and without warning, I felt a wave of peace rush over me, melting away the terror that had pierced through my mind. My muscles began to relax. The chill had left my body. I began trying to move my pinky first, then my hand and finally my body went limp. The tension released from my muscles entirely and I was able to move again.
I glanced towards the foot of the couch and the creatures were gone. I threw myself up off the couch and ran into the bedroom sobbing. I flipped on the light with tears streaming down my face. My husband jumped out of bed startled by my cries. He wrapped himself around me, holding me tight.
“Baby, baby, what’s the matter?”
I sobbed into his shoulder trying to explain what had just happened. He held me as I cried, swearing I was never going to sleep again. He told me it was only a nightmare. He rubbed my back and arms until I calmed down. Then he guided me back to bed and assured me that I was safe. I shook my head in agreement even though I didn’t believe him. I could still feel a slimy wet substance running down my ankle and a burning sensation that went along with it.
I always sleep with the master bathroom light on now. We’ve also moved the baby’s crib back into our room so I can nurse without getting up at night. I hope one day I’ll be able to convince myself it was all just a bad dream, but as for now…I’m not there yet. There’s still a red mark streaked down my ankle that burns when I touch it even though it’s been 3 weeks since that night. I pray I never have to experience anything like that ever again. But every time I close my eyes, I have a feeling it’s still out there in the dark watching me and waiting.