Sunday morning I was shocked to wake up and see it was nearly 9:00 am and you hadn't set off the baby alarm (aka: Nonstop Babble) to let me know you were ready to get up and start your day. I suppose I should mention that you DID wake up around 5:30 for your "I'm thirsty/hungry" bottle, which you normally consume then go right back to sleep until around 8-8:30 or so. But, 8:30 is usually the latest you'll let anyone in the house sleep, which is why I was immediately suspect when I saw it was 9:00. I have that Angelcare monitor that monitors breathing movement so I rarely go flying down the hallway in terror thinking something awful has happened as long as that thing continues to show movement/breathing. So, even though I was surprised you were still asleep, I figured, "well, I guess she needs the sleep" and got about getting up myself.
Around 9:20 or so your dad woke up so I figured it was high time for you to drag your lazy butt out of bed! I went down to the nursery, turned off the monitor, and then turned off your sound machine (which usually rouses you from sleep in a gentle way as opposed to turning all of the blazing lights on in the near-black room). I turned off the sound machine and you didn't wake up.
So, I went over to the crib and saw that you were smooshed up against the bumpers of the crib face-first (which isn't at all uncommon in our house. I have a theory that your nose gets chilly, or, that you're like your father who sleeps face down on his pillows sometimes. You're both very strange like that). So, I put my hand lightly on your back to wake you up and you still didn't move.
By now, my normal methods of waking you up had both failed and I was actually starting to get a bit panicky. This was very unlike you and terrible thoughts started flooding my brain. I put my hand back on your back again and shook you gently but firmly several times. STILL NOTHING!
I took a deep breath, tried to keep the tears from welling up in my eyes, tried to keep from thinking the absolute worst, and pulled you away from the bumpers while rolling you onto your back. You looked up at me, blinked your eyes several times as if to say, "hey... what gives?" rubbed your eyes, sat up, and I have never in my life been so happy to see an awake baby. Never.
I scooped you up, hugged you tightly, and before I could even change your diaper I had to take you down to our bedroom and tell dad what happened. My hands were shaking terribly and I felt like I could barely breathe for a minute or two. I was a hot mess.
Baby G, please don't do that to me ever again. I don't think my heart can take it.