A month or two ago, my one-year-old was asleep on our bed, when I - listening in the other room via baby monitor - heard a loud and definitive thump: baby head hits hardwood. I shrieked, and ran back to our bedroom, where C was sprawled on the floor. I scooped her up and put her back on the bed. She never even woke up, and she was fine. But I know the outcome could have been very different (I am thinking of Natasha Richardson here). And if she had been hurt, or God forbid, killed, I never would have forgiven myself for my negligence. Because if I had been following all the parenting rules as carefully as I should have been, C shouldn't ever take a nap unattended on our bed. She should always be in a newer-model crib, with little bedding - asleep on her back.
Before I had children - and even in my first few years of parenting - I was a lot more judgmental than I am today. If I had heard a story about a mother whose toddler was badly injured because the mother left her sleeping in an adult bed, I might have even suggested criminal prosecution of that parent. In fact, about fifteen years ago, when a local family lost their toddler after the father forgot him all day in the backseat of the family SUV in summer weather, I was in agreement with the DA that the grieving, heartbroken father should be prosecuted.
"I would never, ever do that," I remember thinking. "How could any good parent do that?"
But four children and a whole lotta parenting later, I understand quite clearly how a good parent "could do that." After making my own mistakes over and over and over, and seeing many other friends and family members stumble their way through attempting to raise vulnerable young human beings safely into adulthood, I generally think something very different when I hear about a parent losing a beloved child to something that in a perfect world, should have been prevented. Now, instead of, "how could he/she do that?" I think, "There but by the grace of God, go I."
Sure, I take precautions. We childproof and safety-latch and double-check. We warn and educate and oversee and guide and lecture. But over the years, that didn't prevent the time E filled his mouth with Dow Scrubbing Bubbles, which he found in our kitchen cabinet. It didn't prevent J from falling off the top bunk. It didn't keep me from actually forgetting to pick my baby up from childcare after work one day last year (luckily, she is cared for by her grandmother, so it was all good. But yes, I forgot her until my husband called to ask why I hadn't arrived to pick C up from his mother.)
Bad things can happen to good parents. Mothers and fathers back over their preschoolers in the driveway. They fail to stop that headfirst dive that results in a paralyzed middle schooler. They raise teenagers who become addicted to drugs. Their college student contracts AIDS despite the parental safe-sex discussions. And yes, sometimes loving, caring, attentive parents leave their young children in the hot car all day, forgetting them, and condemning them to a terrible death.
There but by the grace of God, go I.
And you.
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