A few weeks ago we had the perfect day, ending with a pool night at a friend’s house {because it still feels like summer in Michigan!}. My heart was full seeing so many friends throughout the day.
We had swimsuits in the van and Daddy was meeting us there with swim gear. The girls have only really been in a big deep pool once or twice. They mostly swim in the backyard plastic pool or dominate at the splash pad, but love the water. We put on the arm floaties for my oldest and life jacket for the youngest.
This was the time when I thought…hmm, don’t we have arm floaties for both? No? Ok fine, Amazon Prime me that second pair. We had six adults in total and four kiddos! Great, plenty of help and time to catch up with friends on the woes of parenting.
Into the pool we all went, and the girls were getting adjusted right away. This former lifeguard swim teacher was beaming ear to ear. I was so proud and happy to be with family in a pool floating around on a hot summer night. The girls were getting more and more comfortable and my oldest wearing the arm floaties was doing amazing jumping off the side and swimming over to floating toys.
Meanwhile, my youngest was a bit uncomfortable with the lifejacket up to her face. It was keeping her floating but it was not very easy to swim around in, or for her to move her head for that matter. So I took it off and sat her in one of the floats for babies. I plopped my almost 3-year-old, 29 pound, active toddler into an intertube float with the leg holes meant for the babies.
She was floating around and I was close by while catching up with the two other moms in the pool. Since having all of our kiddos in the past few years, bar nights are not quite the Saturday night norm, renting fights on HBO, late-night charades and fourth meal Taco Bell runs have pretty much ended. With working, toddler raising, husbands, and all that life brings, it’s hard to catch up. So seeing each other and talking for longer than a few texts was filling my heart right up.
Then I heard it. My good friend yelled for me. I turned around to see my youngest head down in the water and legs in the air. She had tipped over. Most likely she had leaned over to get a pool toy and, being too big for the float, tipped over. I immediately reached under grabbed her under the armpits and flipped her over.
Her head came out of the water eyes wide open and she hugged me. No choking, no crying just hugged me. I was holding her so tight crying. “It’s ok Jen,” my husband comforted. “She’s fine.”
“It was only a second, I just saw, it just happened,” my good friend said. In that time my whole life flashed in what-ifs? What could have happened? How could I do that?
I was shaking. Shaking, crying, embarrassed and feeling ashamed. HOW COULD I?! How could I have turned my back and let that happen. Thankfully I was with wonderful friends who kept comforting me and saying it could happen to anyone. I knew they were not judging and were being supportive. But I was not ok. I felt horrible.
My youngest, well, she was back in her life jacket and jumping off the side of the pool. She was fine, unphased and fighting her sister for a water gun. I was still not ok. We continued the evening with s’mores and the kiddos chasing fireflies.
Overall it was a great family day, one for the record books, but I drove home crying. I continued to cry and beat myself up over putting her in something that was unsafe for her age and body weight. I vowed not to tell anyone. Not my sister in law who I tell all my parenting fails to over wine and laughs. Not my mom who hears it all and usually a call every day. No, I couldn’t. How embarrassed would I be?
The next morning I went and bought a second set of arm floaties. They both now have a pair that live in the back of the van. Forever they will stay there so when last-minute opportunities come up we can swim and be safe. I will never let them in the water again without the proper gear.
I have now begun to share this with some family members knowing others have shared with me about their postpartum, about their struggles, about all the ugly things that eat you up as a parent.
I share this story to tell you, it could happen to you. It could happen in 24 inches of water, in less than that even. It happened where my child could have drowned right within arm’s reach of me. In a pool with six adults. I share this to say no gear, no swim. It is not worth it.
Have you had a similar “ugly” parenting moment? We all have, and you’re not alone. Share it with us.
