My daughter told me to crawl under the hospital bed… moments after I gave birth.

I had barely caught my breath after delivering my baby boy when my eight-year-old daughter, Emily Carter, leaned down close to my face and whispered, urgent and trembling,
“Mom… get under the bed. Now.”

There was no playfulness in her voice. No imagination. Just raw fear.

I was shaking from exhaustion, my body still buzzing from pain, my hospital gown clinging damply to my skin. The room carried that sharp hospital smell mixed with the soft scent of a newborn. Nurses had just taken my son for routine checks. My husband, Mark Reynolds, had stepped out to answer a phone call.

It was just Emily and me. Continue reading…