What I Found at the Thrift Store and Where It Led Me

Look what I found for 50 cents at the thrift store.

I bought it for one reason and for one reason only.  To save a child's life.

One glimpse of this and I was brought back 29 years, when Daughter was a baby.

And an adorable, sweet, energetic baby she was!

At eleven months she took to torpedoing out of her crib, head first.  This was like some weird sort of game for her.  I would put her in bed, turn around, and hear THUMP.  Repeat. THUMP.  Repeat.  THUMP.  Repeat.  You get the idea.

Night, after night, after night.

It got so bad that I lowered the crib rails (in the early 80's we could still do that), put a chair by the crib, told her FIRMLY to NOT climb out of bed, but that if she did TO USE THE CHAIR.

We tried EVERYTHING.

So, since I was already pregnant at the time, THGGM and I went out and purchased bunk beds.

This, we were sure, would solve the problem.

Not so.  Not so at all.

That led us to attempt to wear her out every evening.  This worked great for everyone BUT her.  She just did not wear out.  I was by now very pregnant and could no longer feel my legs, let alone see my feet.

So one day a kind-hearted friend, whose children NEVER propelled themselves out of their cribs just for kicks, brought me one of these baby harnesses. She told me that her mom had used it with one of her sisters many long years ago.  I thought I had won the lottery.

That very night I attached it to Daughter's mattress per the instructions.  The wide middle section was pinned securely to her tiny middle section.  It certainly did the trick!  It held her securely in her bed.  She would struggle for a bit, but would eventually settle down to sleep.

Then one night, after using the baby harness for several weeks, something just did not seem right.  Even though everything seemed peaceful and still in the house, I just sensed something was wrong.  Although I did not hear a voice, somehow I knew that I had to go into the bedroom.

The bedroom door was an old squeaky French door but I managed to slip into the room quietly.

At first everything seemed to be fine.

Then I heard the most terrifying sound of my life.  Something like gasping and choking.

Kneeling down by the bottom bunk I could see Daughter trying to sit up, but she couldn't.

Quickly I ripped the baby harness off the bed, fumbled around to untangle Daughter, who once out of that contraption vomited profusely.  Once that happened, she was perfectly fine.  No further ill effects whatsoever.  She had apparently twisted herself around so many times that the pressure from the fabric around her tummy had caused her to vomit, but she could not sit up to do so.  I do not want to even THINK about what may have happened had I not felt prompted to go into her room right at that moment.

I am thankful to God, a vigilant guardian angel, and mother's intuition for alerting me to the situation.  Very thankful.  BEYOND thankful.  Eternally grateful.

Fifty-cents well spent so I could photograph the box (it does have cute graphics), write a blog post about it, and then throw it away.

And just so you know, ABSOLUTELY NONE of Daughter's four children EVER even climbed out of their cribs.  EVER.

By the extreme reaction I had to just seeing this box at the thrift store, Daughter may have been fine, but I am still not.

There are SO many things wrong in those pictures on the box that I cannot believe the thrift store was selling this.  A pillow?  Blankets?  Straps?

Caveat Emptor.