Jonathan, it was his voice. I could have recognized it in a crowd of thousand people. It was him, calling me. Hearing him says "mom" shattered me. Was he in danger ? What if he needed me now and he was begging for me, asking for my protection ? He was my child and I remembered what being a child felt like. Nothing genuinely mattered because you didn't think about consequences. Danger was an abstract word that you overhead when your mother told you not to crossed the street without looking. Danger didn't matter because deep inside of you there was that thoughts that, somehow, your mother would fix it and take the car away with her super power and you wouldn't be injured. Being a child you felt protected, you felt like no matter the situation your parents would save you. When I became a mother, I was young and terrorized because I realized that this time I was not the one under protection but I had to protect someone. It was me who would have to take the car away, It was me that would be injured. I would have to look for my child and make sure that nothing would hurt him.

My son was probably thinking the same right now. He was in danger and he thought that I would magically appears, crush him into my arm and take away those monsters. I used to run to his room when he had nightmares, a simple touch of my hand on his head would make those dirty clowns disappear. But not this time and it broke my heart. It made me feel like the worse mother on heart to imagine my big boy, who was still my baby, being in danger and without protection, without my protection. My attempts on making me feel less crappy were useless because, yes, he was big and strong. Yet, when I pushed him out of myself, I promised to myself that no matter how old he would be I would protect him.

Then, few years later, I had another child, a new baby boy. I remembered taking him home and introducing him to his big brother. I remembered how thrilled Jonathan was and how he took away my fears of jealousy. I didn't have a preference. Yes Will was more like me and we loved to play together but It didn't mean that I preferred him over my shy Jonathan. They were different, but I loved them both and I always made sure that nothing in my behavior would make one of them feel forsaken. But not this time. I utterly failed.

I was between those two doors wondering which I had to open. Behind both doors there was one of my son asking for my help, asking for his mommy's arms. And I had to choose which path to follow. Jonathan or Will ? It made me shiver but still I had to choose. And I chose. I chose Will, I chose my baby boy knowing that I abandoned my big boy. That maybe my lack of intervention could have killed him, that perhaps I was his last hope and I didn't save him. I couldn't stand to imagine how abandoned he felt. It was the worse mom's nightmare becoming real, it was my worse fear being thrown to my face.

A part of me is still in that corridor, tortured by the worse decision a mother could face : which one of my sons will I save ?