True Story: My Home Invasion - Adventures in Parenting

Someone broke into my house on Saturday night.

I am completely serious. In a perfect nightmare scenario, my husband was out of town and I was home alone with the kids when someone busted through my front door in the middle of the night. I knew what was happening and watched helplessly, unable to do a thing to stop it.

Spoiler alert: we are all OK. Thank God. He protected us.

Yet while we are physically fine, this ?event? did a bit of an emotional and mental number on me ? as you might imagine. For the past few days I have been replaying everything over and over in my head trying to sort out all my thoughts and feelings on the matter. I have been going back and forth on whether or not to write about it. I still haven?t told almost anyone I know. (I haven?t even mentioned it on Facebook!) But in the end, writing is how I process information best?so now you all get to be the first to know.

For starters, Kyle is almost never out of town. Maybe once or twice a year. But his grandpa passed away last week and he had to fly home for his funeral. I took all the same safety precautions that I normally take ? especially when he happens to be gone. But for some reason, this time I felt especially on edge. When I talked to Kyle each day, I told him how nervous I was that something was going to happen at night and that I wouldn?t be able to hear it. So instead of sleeping with the noisy air conditioning on in our bedroom, I slept with the door and windows open. It sounds crazy to say it now, but I really just had a feeling that I needed to be extra alert.

Saturday night came and instead of falling exhaustedly into bed, as I had been doing all week, I decided to sort old kids? clothes in my room and watch a movie. It was about 2 am ? and I was nearing the end of ?The Help? (best movie I?ve seen in years, by the way)- when I heard it. It was a man?s voice directly under my open 2nd floor bedroom window.

?Are you going to go around to the front door??

In an instant, my blood ran cold. The proximity of the voice told me with no uncertainty that people were talking about MY front door ? and the fact that Kyle was gone and we know so few other people around here told me that there was absolutely no reason that anyone SHOULD be going to my front door in the middle of the night. Within seconds, two thoughts flashed through my mind.

1. So this is what Kevin felt like on Home Alone.

2. I should call 9-1-1. But this is probably going to be a silly mix-up and they?re going to think I?m crazy. But what if I?m not???

Luckily, the thought of me and the kids being in danger quickly overruled the fear of being wrong and I called 9-1-1 immediately. Thank goodness I did. It quickly became evident that this was no mix-up. The 9-1-1 operator was wonderful and dispatched the officers right away, while staying on the phone to coach me through the situation. By now, a man and a woman were at my front door. She was barefoot and wearing what looked like a prom dress. And she was trying to get in my house. She wasn?t knocking. She didn?t ring the doorbell. She was pulling and shaking on the door handles with all her might.

Trying to remain calm, I walked to the open 2nd floor window above the front door and called down, ?I?ve called the police. I don?t know who you are but you need to leave immediately!? Then the man looked up at me with a confused look on his face and said, ?She says she lives here.? He wasn?t dressed up like she was. I immediately got the impression that perhaps he had stumbled across her somewhere and was trying to help her, but didn?t really understand what was going on.

?She doesn?t live here!? I yelled down at him. ?No one else lives here. She needs to stop that and leave!?

But the woman didn?t intend to leave. Now I could hear her too. ?I live here. She?s psychotic,? I heard her say. ?I just need to get in.? She continued to pull and shake on the double doors. Hard.

I ran back around to the front of the second floor landing where I could stare directly down at the door ? and the woman. It had never occurred to me that someone would actually be able to bust through my front door with their bare hands. But this seemingly crazy person stared directly back into my eyes as she shook my doors so violently that they finally gave way. Suddenly, an intruder was standing inside my home and I had no idea why she did it or what she wanted from us. I was terrified.

At this point, the man just quietly disappeared (thanks a lot, buddy). The woman and I stood staring at each other ? me at the top of the stairs and her at the bottom. It was now obvious to me that she was maybe in her early twenties and was incredibly intoxicated. Yet her presence seemed more ominous than just that of a stumbling drunk. While I screamed at her to get out of my home, she kept staring me in the eyes telling me that she lived there and I was psychotic. It was beyond bizarre.

Despite me yelling at her from the landing, the woman immediately started to make her way up to the second floor. At this point, I really started to panic. I had NO idea who this person was or what she intended to do. So many thoughts went through my mind. I thought maybe she USED to live in the house and had suffered some kind of mental trauma that pushed her brain back in time. Heck, our house is so old I even questioned my disbelief in ghosts for a moment. She had such a creepy, hollow, determined look in her eyes. Either way, after watching the woman break through my front door I was extremely concerned that she might try to hurt the kids, who were sleeping right down the hall.

As the intruder came up the stairs, I ran back to my room to try to find something I could use to defend them with. I knew Kyle kept something I could hit her with in our room ? but in my frazzled state of mind, I couldn?t find it! I ran back empty-handed to find the woman now standing on the second floor landing, staring at me and telling me to calm down. At this point, Kellen came out of the bedroom. I screamed at him to get back in the room and he started to cry. I wanted to cry. I have never felt so helpless in my life. I couldn?t talk any sense into this person.

Luckily, it was at that moment that I saw flashing lights outside the house. ?My guys are there right now,? the wonderful 9-1-1 operator told me (she had continued to talk to me the entire time). ?They?re coming in to get her.? I told the intruder that the police were coming in for her and she shot me death glares and a few choice words. Then she started down the stairs. I didn?t really watch what happened next because the operator told me to get in the bedroom with the kids and stay put until the police came back in. I gladly complied. By then, they were both awake and crying. Poor Anna was shaking like a leaf. I probably was too. I just remember feeling like I could melt like a puddle into the carpet. And then I thought, ?I have to call Kyle.? Poor guy. I?m sure that is the most terrifying phone call he has ever received and he couldn?t do anything to help us from so far away.

The police were fantastic. They arrested the woman, checked the rest of the premises, and promised to drive by often for the remainder of night. When everyone left, I deadbolted the kids and myself in my bedroom and tried to get them back to sleep in my bed. Kellen had recovered very quickly and went right to sleep (He had already told me that the next time, I didn?t need to call the police. He would protect me.) But Anna and I just sat there, holding on to each other, as our minds and hearts continued to race. I don?t know what she was thinking, but my predominant thought was ?I just want to go home!? I wanted to be able to spend the night at my parents? house or call my brother or brothers-in-law or father-in-law or cousins and have somebody just come sit with me in Kyle?s absence. But they were all in St. Louis and I was in Boston. And it sucked. Those moments in the wee hours of Sunday morning were by far the loneliest I have ever experienced.

Between four and five a.m., I think I finally dozed off for a couple of hours out of sheer exhaustion. When the kids woke me up around 7, I have never been so relieved to see sunlight! Then it was official?we had survived our harrowing ordeal.

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In retrospect ? now that I know more about who the woman is and what the situation was ? I can see that this was really a ?best case scenario? for a home invasion (if there is such a thing). Through Kyle speaking multiple times with the police and the woman?s family, we have learned much more about the odd circumstances of that night. Long story short, the woman was staying at an inn fairly close to where we live. She was celebrating at a family wedding that night and got incredibly drunk. Her family says that she passed out in her hotel room around midnight. As far as everyone knew, she was in for the night. But for some unknown reason, after being out cold for more than two hours, she woke up, left the inn, and wandered around the area until she decided that our house was her home and she needed to get inside. So she did.

The woman?s family was absolutely horrified to learn about what had happened from the police. Kyle spoke with multiple members of the family and they have all been incredibly humiliated and apologetic. They told Kyle that the intruder herself ?woke up? in jail and didn?t know why she was there. She didn?t have any memory of coming to our house and has no idea what would have compelled her to leave her hotel room in the first place. The woman also called us, crying, to apologize for what happened. I think that was brave of her and appreciate the gesture, but didn?t really have a desire to talk to her. Kyle did it for me. He gave her a good lecture about the dangers of alcohol abuse while he was at it.

By all accounts, the girl is an incredibly nice and normal graduate student who has never done anything like this before. I honestly had a bit of a hard time reconciling that description of a person with the scary woman who forced her way into my home while staring me right in the eyes. But I?m sure it?s true. All I can say is that someone must have been praying for her safety too?because quite honestly, she is lucky to have survived that night. Had I found the thing I was looking for, I could have killed her with it (and quite honestly, I don?t know how I missed it because I later saw it was exactly where I had thought it was). All of our neighbors have told us that had she barged into any of their homes, she would have been shot. Not to mention the facts that she crossed a dark, very busy street while completely out of her mind and was being accompanied by a strange man who could have done anything he wanted with her (the police never found the man, by the way). It all could have spelled tragedy for this young woman and her family that night. But like us, she escaped unharmed. Kyle and I honestly don?t want her future to be ruined over this, so we are keeping the criminal charges to a minimum. In return, her family is paying to fix and greatly strengthen the security of our front door so that something like this can never happen again.

Heaving sigh.

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So that is the true story of my home invasion. I don?t know if there is any good way to wrap it up with a neat little bow. Four days later, I?m finally feeling normal again. I?m able to pass by the front hallway without picturing the intruder outside my door ? most of the time. Yes, I was traumatized for a few days. But now I?m OK. And so are the kids (really and truly), which is most important.

I guess this is the part in the story where I? try to drive home the point that no one is ever truly safe and this could happen to you. It would likely make sense for me to emphasize that I am forever scarred by the terror I experienced that night. But after taking days to reflect on all of this, I think what I have realized is?I?m not.

I was scared, but I?m not scarred.

As a Christian, I can look back at this event as something that the Devil intended for harm ? both for my family and this woman. But instead, God provided protection for everyone involved and peace in its aftermath. He even gave me supernatural sensitivity to the fact that something was going to happen before it ever did. I am sure of it. Had I been asleep in my room with the door closed and the noisy air conditioning on, I?m not sure I would have heard the woman coming in (I am an awfully heavy sleeper). I shudder to think of what might have happened had I not called the police when I did ? or if I had woken up to not just one but two people inside my home ? or even in the kids? room.

As I sat in my bed on Saturday night after all of this happened ? even as I felt more alone than I ever have and wanted to feel really sorry for myself ? I knew I wasn?t really alone. The kids and I prayed and thanked God for answering our nightly prayers to have his angels to watch over us. Then I opened up my Bible app on my phone and read? them the scripture that just ?happened? to be the verse of the day:

Psalm 18:2

?The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my savior; my God is my rock, in whom I find protection. He is my shield, the power that saves me, and my place of safety.?

Amen.

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