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My newborn baby was moved from his crib to under his crib

My newborn baby was moved from his crib to under his crib

" I loved our new life, and loved the fact that I had a 'new' dad, and 2 step brothers and a step sister. I felt like this was the first time I had seen my mother happy. "
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It was the 1970's, I was 5 years old at the time, my great uncle (my mother's uncle) lived with us until his death when I was 7.  I was very close to him, he was almost like a father figure (my biological father walked out on us).  I remember feeling very sad and each night after his funeral, I would sit on his bed and pretend he was sitting beside me, having our nightly talks like we did when he was alive.  

My mother would stand by the door and listen to me "talking" to him (even though he was dead),  I don't remember the extent of our conversations, at the time.  I do however, remember after a while, my mother would come in and tell me I had to go to bed.  His bedroom was located off the kitchen, and there was 2 entrances to his room, through the kitchen, and from the front porch.  The door on the front porch was always locked, and my mother had put a lock on the door from the kitchen side because I guess she didn't think it was healthy for me to talk to him anymore (My mother is Catholic).  Before I knew it, my mother remarried, and we went to live with her new husband and his children in their house several suburbs away.  My mother rented out our house as extra income.

I loved our new life, and loved the fact that I had a 'new' dad, and 2 step brothers and a step sister.  I felt like this was the first time I had seen my mother happy.  

I was 13 years old, when I started seeing and hearing things in my room  (My mother was married for 4yrs by this time).  I didn't transition into teenage life so well, and I struggled socially, I rebelled against everything my family were doing, I refused to listen to simple instructions in school, and I just couldn't understand why I couldn't get it together.  My life took a turn for the worst.  Things in the household became a blur.  My eldest Step Brother was a dirty rotten bastard and did things to me that were uncomprehendable.   I knew I couldn't talk to my mum about things, as she just wasn't interested in being a mother anymore.  All she cared about was my Step Father (who I love dearly), and his rotten children.  I felt alone and very very depressed.  As soon as I turned old enough, I moved out.

When I turned 18, I inherited my Great uncles house that he had left me when he died.  I had gone to his grave and wrote him a huge 8 page letter on how much I really missed him, and how I wish he could let me know he was with me.  I needed him so much.  I stuck it to his headstone and left in tears.  I had lived in his house and saw many apparitions of him over the course of 2 months.  I wanted to travel, so I decided I would sell the house, travel the world, and come home and decide what I wanted to do with myself.  The first country I arrived in was the good ole U.S.A.  I fell in love with her, and decided I would one day come back to live.  On this trip, I met and fell in love with my husband.  He was a Military man and and we met by shear chance.  Of course I left to travel to England and around Europe, but found I left my heart in America.  I returned, got married, and applied for dual citizenship.  Before I knew it, I was pregnant.  We were so happy.  My husband had to deploy 3 weeks after the birth of our son. We named him after my Great Uncle who's name was Justin.  Our son had extreme colic reflux until he was 4 months old, and I wasn't getting enough sleep as he would wake up every 15 mins or so screaming.  The Drs told me to lay him on my chest because the elevation would stop the acid from splashing up and burning him.  I remember waking up one night and found that my son wasn't on my chest.  I felt around me and checked on the floor beside the bed to see if he had fallen off.  I couldn't feel him.  I jumped up and turned on the light, he wasn't anywhere, and he wasn't in his crib.  I knew I lacked sleep, but I know me, I know I would've felt or remembered putting him somewhere.  I just couldn't find him.  I checked the front and back doors, I checked the windows, I checked everywhere.  I was shaking because I didn't know where my son went.  I sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to think.  All of a sudden, something told me to look over at his crib, here he was sound asleep UNDER his crib sleeping on his stomach with his blanket over him to his shoulders keeping him warm.  The tears I shed that night was uncontrollable, all of my fears were laid to rest seeing him there sleeping peacefully.  I looked him over to make sure he was ok, he didnt wake or even budge (he was alive lol), I left him there, because somehow, I knew it was my Great uncle letting me know he is still with me and watching over us, I think my Great Uncle just wanted me to get some sleep so he decided he would take a shift for me so I could whether this colic reflux storm.  I have never seen my Great Uncle again, however, I just know he is still watching over us...
It was the 1970's, I was 5 years old at the time, my great uncle (my mother's uncle) lived with us until his death when I was 7.  I was very close to him, he was almost like a father figure (my biological father walked out on us).  I remember feeling very sad and each night after his funeral, I would sit on his bed and pretend he was sitting beside me, having our nightly talks like we did when he was alive.  

My mother would stand by the door and listen to me "talking" to him (even though he was dead),  I don't remember the extent of our conversations, at the time.  I do however, remember after a while, my mother would come in and tell me I had to go to bed.  His bedroom was located off the kitchen, and there was 2 entrances to his room, through the kitchen, and from the front porch.  The door on the front porch was always locked, and my mother had put a lock on the door from the kitchen side because I guess she didn't think it was healthy for me to talk to him anymore (My mother is Catholic).  Before I knew it, my mother remarried, and we went to live with her new husband and his children in their house several suburbs away.  My mother rented out our house as extra income.

I loved our new life, and loved the fact that I had a 'new' dad, and 2 step brothers and a step sister.  I felt like this was the first time I had seen my mother happy.  

I was 13 years old, when I started seeing and hearing things in my room  (My mother was married for 4yrs by this time).  I didn't transition into teenage life so well, and I struggled socially, I rebelled against everything my family were doing, I refused to listen to simple instructions in school, and I just couldn't understand why I couldn't get it together.  My life took a turn for the worst.  Things in the household became a blur.  My eldest Step Brother was a dirty rotten bastard and did things to me that were uncomprehendable.   I knew I couldn't talk to my mum about things, as she just wasn't interested in being a mother anymore.  All she cared about was my Step Father (who I love dearly), and his rotten children.  I felt alone and very very depressed.  As soon as I turned old enough, I moved out.

When I turned 18, I inherited my Great uncles house that he had left me when he died.  I had gone to his grave and wrote him a huge 8 page letter on how much I really missed him, and how I wish he could let me know he was with me.  I needed him so much.  I stuck it to his headstone and left in tears.  I had lived in his house and saw many apparitions of him over the course of 2 months.  I wanted to travel, so I decided I would sell the house, travel the world, and come home and decide what I wanted to do with myself.  The first country I arrived in was the good ole U.S.A.  I fell in love with her, and decided I would one day come back to live.  On this trip, I met and fell in love with my husband.  He was a Military man and and we met by shear chance.  Of course I left to travel to England and around Europe, but found I left my heart in America.  I returned, got married, and applied for dual citizenship.  Before I knew it, I was pregnant.  We were so happy.  My husband had to deploy 3 weeks after the birth of our son. We named him after my Great Uncle who's name was Justin.  Our son had extreme colic reflux until he was 4 months old, and I wasn't getting enough sleep as he would wake up every 15 mins or so screaming.  The Drs told me to lay him on my chest because the elevation would stop the acid from splashing up and burning him.  I remember waking up one night and found that my son wasn't on my chest.  I felt around me and checked on the floor beside the bed to see if he had fallen off.  I couldn't feel him.  I jumped up and turned on the light, he wasn't anywhere, and he wasn't in his crib.  I knew I lacked sleep, but I know me, I know I would've felt or remembered putting him somewhere.  I just couldn't find him.  I checked the front and back doors, I checked the windows, I checked everywhere.  I was shaking because I didn't know where my son went.  I sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to think.  All of a sudden, something told me to look over at his crib, here he was sound asleep UNDER his crib sleeping on his stomach with his blanket over him to his shoulders keeping him warm.  The tears I shed that night was uncontrollable, all of my fears were laid to rest seeing him there sleeping peacefully.  I looked him over to make sure he was ok, he didnt wake or even budge (he was alive lol), I left him there, because somehow, I knew it was my Great uncle letting me know he is still with me and watching over us, I think my Great Uncle just wanted me to get some sleep so he decided he would take a shift for me so I could whether this colic reflux storm.  I have never seen my Great Uncle again, however, I just know he is still watching over us...

© RJCoxParanormal - 03-27-19



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Added 03-27-19

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