This is latest & greatest gadget in baby theft prevention:
I'm not sure what it's officially called, but on the street (and by that I mean the hospital halls) it's called "Baby LoJack." Basically, it keeps small, defenseless people from being carried off by big bad people. An unfortunately necessary device in today's broken world.
But what Baby LoJack does not do is help sleep-deprived, slightly crazy new mothers differentiate between big, bad people and innocent, helpful nurses.
On the day of Hudson's birth, our night nurse came in for a middle of the night visit. She was a terribly sweet woman with an undeniable, very recognizable accent. She checked me and then told me that she was going to check Hudson's vitals as well. Either she didn't say so or my fatigue precluded me from comprehending it but I missed the part of the conversation where I was told that she was going to take him away for his check-up. The next thing I knew, she was gone, my baby was gone, and I was all alone (except for Kevin who was scrunched up on the tiny couch next to my bed, sleeping soundly).
And that's when the hormonal delusions kicked in. Where has my child gone? After all, this is the furthest apart we've been in 9 months. What if this "nurse" isn't really a nurse at all and she's running away with my child at this very moment? So what if she did a thorough check of me and had the exact same accent as the person who really is my nurse...must be a very convincing baby thief. On and on my imagination raged until there was only one thing to do...
"Someone took Hudson, and I don't know where he is. What if it wasn't the nurse? Will you go find him?"
Husband of the year award was earned in that moment when he peeled himself off the couch, put on his shoes, and went in search of the little baby that wasn't really missing at all. When he returned, he told me that there were a handful of pink & blue hatted babies in the nursery, one of them most likely Hudson. Unfortunately, the most likely left enough reasonable doubt in my mind to press the subject further.
"But what if he's not? What if he's gone forever?"
"Trust me, Beck," my most patient husband replied. "And if you don't trust me, trust Baby LoJack."
Ah, Baby LoJack, restoring sleep to hormonal, exhausted women across America (except for this one, of course, who laid restlessly in bed until her sweet newborn returned from the nursery).